


Forever Young (Let us die young or let us live forever)

by Smoviescenes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Canon Compliant, Godric's Hollow, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Moony - Freeform, Muggles, Multi, Number Four Privet Drive (Harry Potter), Padfoot - Freeform, Potions, Pranks, Prongs - Freeform, Quidditch, School, Shrieking Shack, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Slytherin, Smoking, The Marauder's Map, The Marauders - Freeform, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), Werewolves, Wormtail - Freeform, Young Marauders, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 50,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoviescenes/pseuds/Smoviescenes
Summary: Inspired by the hundreds of wonderful Marauder-headcanons found on tumblr, this is an attempt at depicting the world the Marauders grew up in. Or, at least what it could have looked like. I have followed JK Rowling's books and the movies but not completely. So do not expect this to be 100% canon. It is not. It is, however, the story of James and Sirius and Remus and Peter, Lily, McGonagall, and many more.-“It’s just a bit of fun,” Sirius says.“A wee bit of fun!” Peeves laughs, doing a cartwheel in the air. “Tell Peeves if you need help having fun. That’s what Peeves does best!” He keeps laughing, ruffles the hair on all their heads, then vanishes.Remus is the first to speak. “Did we just…Become friends with a poltergeist?”“I think we did,” James agrees.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 58
Kudos: 195





	1. The First Year

**Author's Note:**

> “Once you know the end of the story, every part of the story contains that end, and is only a way of reaching it.” – Leah Stewart

**September 1 st 1971**

Becoming friends with James Potter is easier than Sirius would have thought. It just sort of happens. Easier than breathing. Much easier. Breathing hadn’t been all that easy until he parted from his parents and his brother at Platform 9¾. Now that he thinks about it, breathing has never been this easy before.

James comes swooping in with black hair that stands out in every direction, brown eyes filled with mischief and a contagious grin on his face.

“Oi! You there!”

 _Me_? Sirius mouths, pointing at his chest.

“I’m going to steal some chocolate frogs from the trolley, wanna join me?”

And so it begins. A friendship. More than that, really, not that they know it at the moment.

“You distract her and I’ll take the candy,” Sirius smirks, flops his hair out of his face and follows the dark-haired boy down the train until they find the trolley. It’s parked right outside a compartment with a handful of other first-years in it, one of which looks at the dark-haired boy with awe as he starts lecturing the trolley-lady on why candy is bad for you and that all the children will lose their teeth.

Sirius grabs a handful of Chocolate Frogs, some Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, three treacle tarts and a bottle of pumpkin juice. It’s way more than he can carry, but he wraps it all up in his cloak and darts off before the trolley-lady can even suspect what’s going on.

He finds a compartment that’s empty except for a gaunt-looking kid in the corner, who regards him with mild disinterest as he enters.

“Can I join you?” Sirius asks, half not expecting a response, but he doesn’t have the chance to get one before the dark-haired boy and another first-year with mousy hair fall in behind him.

“That was wicked, mate,” the dark-haired boy says. “I’m James. Potter.”

“Sirius.”

“I’m Peter,” the mousy boy says. The three of them face the kid sitting by the window then, all expecting him to introduce himself as well.

The boy seems to realize this, clears his throat and says, “Remus Lupin.”

“Right. Remus, if anyone asks, I brought my own food and candy from home and have now generously shared it with all of you,” Sirius explains very matter-of-factly and not at all as a joke, but James and Peter laugh heartily and continue as he tosses them a chocolate frog each.

They eat the candy, Remus hoarding the chocolate and stuttering furiously when asked about it, Peter stuffing his mouth with two treacle tarts, and James talking non-stop.

Sirius wonders if this is what having friends is like. He decides that either way, he likes it.

James talks, and talks, and talks, and tells them all about Hogwarts and the monster in the lake and the teachers and headmaster Dumbledore and the houses.

“Gryffindor is the best. My father was a Gryffindor, and that’s where I’ll be. What do y’all reckon you’ll end up in?”

“My father was a Ravenclaw, my mother is a muggle. So we’ll see,” Remus replies diplomatically when neither Sirius or Peter make a move to say anything. James looks at Sirius with hope, but Sirius stubbornly looks out the window.

“I think I could be a Gryffindor,” Peter says at last, pleased when James gives a celebratory cheer.

“Awesome! What about you, Sirius?”

Sirius tries to smile, and makes it about halfway there. “My entire family were in Slytherin. So I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

James snorts. “That’s rubbish, mate. You can be anything you want to be. If my family were in Slytherin I’d tell them to go shove a cauldron up their arses and let me choose for myself.”

It may not sound like much, but it sparks a thought in Sirius’ mind that he can’t quite get rid of. The rest of the train ride is spent trading stories and expectations and getting to know each other. A part of Sirius thinks that it’s futile, becoming friends with three boys who will most certainly end up in another house than him, but he can’t help himself.

They ride the boats across the great lake, walk up the many stairs to the Great Hall and line up. A witch with sharp eyes and hair tied up in a neat bun presents the sorting hat and a list of their names. Sirius swallows hard and suddenly she looks right at him. She brings out the same kind of fear that his mother would, but still something is different. There is a twinkle in her eyes as she watches Sirius.

“I’m professor McGonagall. When I call your name, come up here and I will put the hat on your head. The hat will call out what house you belong to. During your time here, your house will be your home. There is Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

She calls out the first name, and a boy with dark skin walks up.

“Ravenclaw!” the hat shouts.

McGonagall keeps calling names that Sirius doesn’t remember. He glances at James by his side. Sirius will be the first one to be called up. He shoots a look at the Slytherin table, easy to distinguish with their green ties and capes. His cousins and uncles and aunts stare openly at him, cracking wicked grins as his name is called. He stumbles up to the chair and the sorting hat is placed on his head.

“ _Oh, Slytherin blood, I see. Lots of pressure from the family, I can tell_.” Sirius flinches as it talks to him.

“I’m not like them,” Sirius thinks, clinging to the hope that it’s true.

“ _True, my boy. True. One could put you in any of the four houses, the qualities are all there. Clever. A kind heart. Cunning. Loyal. Any of the four would do._ ”

Sirius glances at the green cloaks of his cousins, their wicked stares and bared teeth, and then he finds James in the crowd of first years, beaming at him like he is actually worth something.

“Gryffindor,” he thinks, and instantly regrets it, but it’s too late.

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouts, and all the blood drains from his face. Bellatrix and Andromeda shoot scolding, disapproving looks his way, and his feet lead him towards the Gryffindor table while he really just wants to sink through the floor and cease to exist.

 _Gryffindor_.

What was he thinking.

His mother is going to kill him. Disown him. Permanently turn him into an erumpent horn. He stares blankly into the empty air in front of him, barely registers how James, Remus and Peter all join him at the table, doesn’t even get a glimpse of headmaster Dumbledore. He stays completely and utterly lethargic until James elbows him in the ribs and shakes his shoulder.

“We’re leaving. Come on.”

The route to Gryffindor’s common room is long and complicated and Sirius does his best not to remember it. Maybe he’ll accidentally end up in Slytherin’s instead and they’ll allow him to change houses, because after all, that is where he belongs.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” James blurts, elbowing his ribs again. Sirius rubs the spot, annoyed.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. What do you think? My mother is going to kill me. Then my father is going to kill me. This was all a huge mistake.”

“Don’t be such a downer, mate, you just got yourself sorted into the best house at Hogwarts! We’re your family now. Right?” James says the last bit a little louder, immediately reassured by voices all around them.

“You don’t understand what she will do,” Sirius groans, then every worry in his mind sort of slips away as they enter the common room. He can’t think about his mother when everything he wants to think about is the room he is in.

It welcomes him with warmth and safety and what coming home is _supposed_ to feel like. There’s a calm fire in the hearth, large armchairs in little clusters around a few tables, every inch of the floor covered with thick, red carpets, and matching tapestries lining the walls. He is _home_. Finally.

“Forget everything I just said,” he mumbles, ignoring the prefect and rushing up the stairs to find the bedroom. James and Peter follow him in a heartbeat, Remus treading after slowly and joining them once they’ve already opened their trunks and pulled out various books, posters and other miscellaneous things that they have brought from home.

Sirius bed is next to the window, giving him a view of the mountains and the lake. He falls in love with it instantly, as innocently and unprecedented as only a child can fall in love with things.

**September 2 nd 1971**

The boys wait for Remus before going downstairs to have breakfast. He doesn’t expect it, and therefore he is late and slow and utterly ashamed when he enters the common room and they’re all bouncing around in various armchairs.

“Finally!” James exclaims, bolting towards the portrait hole. “Let’s go before we starve to death!”

Peter laughs. Sirius rolls his eyes. Remus follows them sheepishly.

The Great Hall is truly magnificent. Remus still can’t quite believe that he is here, that this is his home now, that he is going to learn about all sorts of magic from one of the greatest schools in the world. He owes Dumbledore everything, as his mother has been sure to point out every second since the owl came with his letter. A one in a million chance, this, and he must not mess it up.

He is not sure why the tree boys accepted him into their newly-formed group, but who is he to complain? He never had friends before. Not unless you count Mrs. Amethyst from the library in St. Albans, but seeing as she was a senile 76 year-old witch, maybe she should not be counted at all.

Now they eat breakfast together and talk and laugh like they’ve known each other for years already.

The mood changes drastically when the mail arrives and an angry red envelope is dropped on Sirius’ plate.

“Mate, you’ve got to open it!” James exclaims, already reaching for the letter.

“No way!”

“It’ll explode if you don’t,” Peter chimes in, and when no one makes a move, James finally grabs the letter and tears it open.

It is, put mildly, quite horrible.

“SIRIUS BLACK. IF YOU THINK FOR A SECOND THAT THIS WILL NOT HAVE CONSEQUENCES, THINK AGAIN. WE HAVE TO EXPLAIN OURSELVES TO EVERY PERSON THAT HAS EVER KNOWN THE NAME ‘BLACK’. FROM NOW ON YOU WILL BE A STRANGER IN THIS HOUSE. **”**

The letter does blow up in a small, fiery explosion that leaves a fine layer of ash over Sirius’ breakfast. By the look on his face, he wasn’t going to finish it anyways.

“Family, huh?” Sirius scoffs, trying for a smile. He only makes it about half-way before it turns into a grimace.

“Family? That was your family?” James bursts, back straight and nostrils flared. Remus watches him with some amusement.

“Yeah, well, my mother, but she’s always-“

James stands up on his chair and clears his throat. “Sirius Black, from now on this is your family.”

“Oi, shut your face!” Sirius hisses, which, of course, only spurs James on.

“YOU WILL ALWAYS BE WELCOME IN THE GRYFFINDOR HOUSE.”

“You’re making a fool of yourself-“

“AND I AM OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCING PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL AS YOUR NEW MOTHER. EXPECT HOWLERS EVERY MORNING REMINDING YOU TO EAT YOUR BREAKFAST AND DO YOUR HOMEWORK.”

“James!“

“FELLOW GRYFFINDORS, JOIN ME IN WELCOMING THIS POOR, ORPHANED SOUL INTO OUR HEARTS.”

“Mr. Potter, why is my name being shouted across the Great Hall? It is only your second day here, surely you can’t be in trouble already?”

Professor McGonagall appears behind James without warning, lips pursed and eyes peering at James through her glasses. Remus can’t look away.

“Professor,” James greets happily. “I’m just making sure all of the new Gryffindors feel at home. Working on the house-spirit, and all that.”

Professor McGonagall gives them all piercing looks, lingering on Sirius for a few moments longer than the rest of them. At last she scoffs softly and smacks James’ arm with the newspaper in her hand.

“Chairs are for sitting on. Finish your breakfast. And welcome to Gryffindor.”

Remus can’t decide if Sirius looks more pleased or embarrassed, but at least there is a smile on his face.


	2. The Red-Headed Girl

**September 7 th 1971**

Remus disappears for a few days, which seems to worry James more than Sirius considers mentally stable people should worry. He tells James as much, which results in a lump on the side of his head and a few strands of hair missing. Professor McGonagall informed them that he was sick when they asked. James won’t stop talking about him, like, at all, until Remus finally returns, a little worse for wear, but with an energy that wasn’t there before.

“We should explore the castle,” he says at breakfast without any greeting whatsoever.

“Remus!” James exclaims.

“Good to have you back, mate,” Sirius grins.

“Hope you’re feeling better?” Peter asks.

“Remus!” James repeats.

“Pretty sure the guy knows his own name,” Sirius snorts at him. James swats a hand in his general direction and barely notices how he hits Sirius’ nose.

“We’ve been so-“ James begins, is interrupted by a loud cough from Sirius, and continues, “ _I’ve_ wondered where you’ve been. We took notes for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Remus stutters, cheeks turning red. It makes Sirius smile for some reason. “Now, as I was saying. I overheard some teachers talking about a pack of pixies on the fourth floor. Apparently they’ve been making a mess. Care to check it out?”

They do, and it’s glorious. James is lifted up to the ceiling rafters, Peter’s hair is pulled in every direction, Remus tries out a few spells and Sirius laughs his arse off watching James’ and Peters’ attempts at fighting off the pixies.

Remus pulls off the levitating spell on one of the pixies, eyes glowing as he manoeuvres a quite shocked pixie in the air.

“Come on, Sirius, try it!” he laughs, turning towards him with an ear-splitting grin. Sirius joins him, paying more attention to Remus’ newfound energy than the pixies. He quickly learns that Remus’ laugh is quite contagious.

**September 14 th 1971**

James is punched in the face by a girl, and it is quite spectacular. It all begins with yet another howler from Sirius’ mother. His poor owl is going back and forth so often that it’s beginning to look rather ragged, but when Sirius locked it in its cage his mother ended up sending four howlers at once.

The howler of the day goes on and on about how Sirius is going to be disowned and murdered and so on, and Sirius is getting used to being embarrassed in front of the entire school. However, apparently today James has had enough of the angry letters. So before Walburga’s distorted voice can even finish shouting, James pulls out his wand and flicks it at the letter, probably wanting to do something remarkable with it, but it ends up flying straight into the face of a red-headed girl before dissolving with a minor explosion.

James and Peter stare on in horror.

Remus tries to stifle a laugh.

Sirius grabs his cup of pumpkin juice and splashes it into the red-heads face, putting out the fire in her eyebrows.

She gets to her feet, fumes literally coming from her head, walks straight up to James and hits him. Clenched fist, a punch right on his jaw, like a muggle.

James cradles his face and his three friends end up wheezing for air from laughing too hard.

“Who was that?” James asks, bewildered. Another first-year from across the table leans in towards them.

“That’s Lily. Lily Evans.”

“She seems lovely, gonna ask her out?” Sirius sneers, still laughing at his expression.

**September 17 th 1971**

In just a little over two weeks, Remus perfects the levitation spell, to everyone’s surprise. Professor Flitwick looks astounded, Peter gapes in awe, but Sirius only looks on with a quiet smirk. He has already learned not to underestimate his friend.

It’s on their way back to the common room after dinner that Sirius gets the idea. He pulls Remus to the side and confers with him quickly, then he walks up to James while Remus fills Peter in on the idea.

“James,” Sirius calls, and James waits for him to catch up. “I’ve got a plan.”

Once all four of them are informed and synchronized and ready, they enter the common room. Remus and Peter head straight for the dormitories, while James and Sirius lounge by the fire. They wait for about three minutes before Peter’s head turns up at the top of the stairs, and the game begins.

James suddenly jumps to his feet, pointing at Sirius while shouting at the top of his lungs, “I can’t believe you copied my homework and handed it in under your name!”

“Me? You’re the one that stole all my books!”

“You knarl-smelling oaf!”

“You are dumber than a bowtruckle twig!”

Sirius runs head-first into James, knocking him to the floor. They wrestle about, shouting insults at each other, until the well-known voice of a prefect arrives to separate them.

“One more word out of you two and I’m sending you straight to detention! Understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Sirius blurts, enticing a snort from James. They lock eyes but have to look away instantly to keep from laughing.

“Alright, fun’s over, scatter,” the prefect calls out, and slowly the crowd disperses.

James grins at Sirius.

“A bowtruckle twig?” he taunts, snorting a laugh once more. Sirius does a little bow before pulling James into a headlock and down on the sofa. They wrestle about a bit more, now under much calmer circumstances, but quiet down once Remus and Peter re-join them.

“Well?” James asks eagerly.

Peter cracks the widest smile. “It’s bloody brilliant. Our room, third year’s and fifth year’s.”

“And it’ll keep till people start going to bed,” Remus adds with a smile.

They share a group high-five and pull out a game of exploding snap-cards, waiting for the chaos to begin.

The night is talked about for weeks, amongst students and teachers and the rest of the staff. The night the beds in Gryffindor Common room were all floating around in the air, and it took professor McGonagall less than a second to find the culprits. Perhaps because they were all laughing too hard.

Sirius and James ended up in detention, which they both found extremely unfair seeing as it was Remus who did all the hard work. Either way, it led to the levitating spell being banned at Hogwarts except during classes.

**October 5 th 1971**

Remus has been home visiting his parents, and Sirius can’t wait for him to get back. The remaining boys have found a secret tunnel behind a painting on the fifth floor, and they are dying to check it out, but being true and loyal friends they wait for Remus.

Remus returns that afternoon, with black rings under his eyes, hair matted and cheeks hollow. He looks cold.

“Did you swim back through the Black Lake, mate?” James jokes, pushing him lightly. Sirius can see the worry behind his smile.

“I…got sick. When I was home. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.”

“You up for an adventure?” Peter asks, and of course he is. They leave the common room, James and Peter taking the lead with Remus and Sirius hanging back a bit.

“You look like shit,” Sirius says.

“I feel like it too,” Remus grins. He turns his head forwards and as Sirius glances at him, he spots a mighty bruise on the side of his neck.

Sirius sees red and grabs Remus’ arm, jerking him to a halt.

“What are you-?”

Sirius takes hold of the collar of Remus’ shirt and pulls it back, revealing the full extent of the bruise. Remus cowers back a bit and tries to get out of Sirius’ grip, but he is stronger than he looks and tugs up his shirtsleeves as well, uncovering more bruises and a few cuts and scrapes.

Remus looks like he doesn’t know what to say. Sirius knows exactly what he wants to say. James and Peter haven’t noticed their absence yet, so Sirius pushes Remus into an empty classroom and corners him completely.

“Did you parents do this to you?” he breathes, finding it hard to form proper words. All he can see is his mother’s wand and a flash of red light.

Remus looks shocked, which both calms Sirius and makes him extremely jealous. “Of course not. My parents would never… I’m just clumsy.”

_My parents would never…_

Sirius is not stupid. He knows that other parents don’t hurt their children. But for one small moment, the thought of not being alone was more comforting than anything else could ever be.

“Right. Sorry.”

They don’t talk about it again. But Sirius can’t stop thinking about the bruises.

**November 3 rd 1971**

Peter sees a look on Sirius’ face and decides to cheer him up. His version of cheering up is bringing Sirius a week’s worth of desserts from the kitchens.

“Oi, Pete, where’d you get all of this?” James exclaims, throwing himself on Peter’s bed and grabbing a bowl of pudding. Sirius and Remus look up from their beds, coming over to Peter and James. Remus zooms in on a chocolate cake immediately.

Peter holds out a plate of treacle tart to Sirius. “Want some?”

Sirius eyes it suspiciously. “Where did you get all of this?” he asks.

“The house elves. They’re kind of nice, actually. I told them…”

“What?” James says. Peter glances at Sirius’ smile as he bites into the pudding.

“That I had a sick friend who needed some cheering up.”

“And they bought it? Sweet!”

They laugh and eat and eat until they can’t possibly eat any more.

**November 16 th 1971**

For their fourth prank, they decide that the two knight-armours on the second floor will do nicely. It’s Peter’s idea, but since his transfiguration-skills are not up to speed with the rest of the boys, he doesn’t even give it a shot.

They stand in front of the armours, reaching up to about mid-waist. James feels tiny. He expects he’ll feel even smaller when the armours actually start to move.

“Alright, who’s first?” James asks, sneaking a glance around the corridor to make sure Filch isn’t nearby.

Sirius rolls his sleeves up and raises his wand.

“ _Piertotum locomotor,”_ he says. James looks up expectantly, but the armour stands motionless.

“Try it again,” he urges. Sirius gives it a total of four tries before he gives in.

“You give it a go,” Sirius calls to Remus, who tilts his head but agrees. The knight on the left twitches as if getting ready to take a step, then as if it changes its mind, it freezes again. Remus’ brows furrow together but when he tries again there is no reaction at all.

James clears his throat, raises his wand and says the incantation, spurred by his friends’ failure rather than discouraged, but is still surprised when the knight suddenly takes a step forwards, then another, then walks off down the corridor.

James and Sirius throw their fists in the air while Remus gives an impressed applause and Peter mostly looks stunned.

“PEEVES!” a familiar voice shouts, and they all crouch down simultaneously. “IF YOU DON’T LEAVE THAT ARMOUR ALONE I WILL FIND A WAY TO TURN YOU INTO A MOUSE AND LET MRS. NORRIS CHASE YOU TILL THE ENDS OF THE EARTH!”

“Fuck,” Remus says, which of course makes James and Sirius and Peter laugh heartily.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” James grins. When Filch’s steps approach them, he points towards a classroom and pulls his friends inside.

“That was awesome,” Sirius pants, closing the door behind them and putting an ear against it. “Filch is leaving. Who do you reckon this Peeves guy is?”

“Don’t know, but he just saved our asses.”

“Peeves certainly did!” a voice calls from above, causing the four of them to look up. A tiny man with orange eyes dressed in ridiculous colours hovers in the air above their heads.

“A poltergeist,” James sighs. “So, you and Filch are best mates I take it?”

Peeves snickers manically. “Bestest of mates, since the dawn of time. Who are you four troublemakers who impersonate the Great Peeves?”

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Sirius says.

“A wee bit of fun!” Peeves laughs, doing a cartwheel in the air. “Tell Peeves if you need help having fun. That’s what Peeves does best!” He keeps laughing, ruffles the hair on all their heads, then vanishes.

Remus is the first to speak. “Did we just…Become friends with a poltergeist?”

“I think we did,” James agrees.


	3. The Cloak Of Invisibility

**December 18 th 1971**

With Peter and James leaving for Christmas in a few hours, they spend their last breakfast together in the Great Hall. Remus wishes that he could go home, too, but his parents are abroad and with the full moon on new year’s eve, it’s best to keep up with his acquired routines. He doesn’t mind going to the Shrieking Shack, despite it being quite run-down and covered in a fine layer of dust no matter how much time he spends trying to clean it with various hexes.

And Sirius is staying too, which means he will have some company. Remus has grown to like his fellow house-mate, but he has a hard time figuring out whether the feelings are mutual. He doesn’t know how to read him. Sirius is explicitly clear when it comes to being James’ best friend, and James, on the other hand, shows nothing but pure fondness for all three of them. Peter is perhaps more subtle when it comes to his emotions, but he still cares for them all. Remus enjoys his quiet company, being a nice change to James and Sirius’ endless energy. Especially on the days just before and after the full moon, when all he needs is some peace. In those moments, Peter brings him hot cocoa and sits quietly with him in the common room as they do their homework.

The mail arrives, Remus’ grey owl Barbados landing softly next to him with the newspaper. He gets a piece of an apple then flies off again.

Once Remus’ attention is directed back to his friends, he instantly notices the change in Sirius’ posture and expression.

“Something wrong?” he asks, but Sirius ignores him, completely buried in the letter he just received. James catches on to the change in the mood and repeats Remus’ question, at which Sirius looks up, blinks hard a few times and folds up the letter again.

“I have to go home for Christmas,” he says. Remus’ heart drops.

“What? Why?” Remus hates that his voice sounds so needy, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to be left here alone.

“My brother,” Sirius sighs. He nods at the letter. “He wrote wondering when I’m coming home. I have to go.”

“I didn’t even know that you had a brother,” Remus blurts out. Anything to keep Sirius at the table a little longer, perhaps to make him change his mind. Sirius smiles softly, a new expression on him.

“Reggie, he’s my little brother. I’m sorry, Remus, I have to go pack.”

Remus is not a dramatic kid, he has never been, but his heart breaks as he watches Sirius leave.

**January 5 th 1972**

Remus has been pacing in front of the fire in the common room for so long that he’s beginning to wonder if he’s made a dent in the floor. His only company during the break has been two fourth-year Gryffindor girls, a first-year Hufflepuff that he’s been studying with in the library, five Slytherin boys and three Ravenclaws. It has been extraordinarily lonely. And this is coming from Remus, who has spent his entire childhood, from five years old to eleven, completely and utterly alone.

But back then he didn’t know what having friends was like. Now he does, and he misses them dearly.

James is the first to come through the common room door. While Remus considers whether he should hug him, whether hugging is something that they do, James walks right up to him and throws his arms around him.

“Good to see you,” he grins and Remus hugs him back.

Peter is next, wearing a new knitted sweater, undoubtedly from his mother. He hugs Remus too and trails up to the bedroom with James to unpack. Before they go, James glances around and pulls Remus a little closer.

“Sirius is… He had a falling out with his parents. Just… don’t stare.”

Remus doesn’t know what to say to that.

Sirius is one of the last to arrive, in torn jeans and wrinkly t-shirt. He looks up at Remus through hooded eyes. Remus stares. Sirius’ pale arms are littered with bruises and cuts, he has a black eye, a cut on his lip and moves slowly and with caution.

“You look like shit,” Remus mumbles. It’s the first thing he can think of to say, and maybe he shouldn’t have, but Sirius’ face cracks up into a smile and he goes in for a hug.

“Well, I feel like it too.”

That’s all they have to say about it, and if Remus ever brings it up again Sirius just shuts him off.

**February 29 th 1972**

“Something must be wrong with him,” James says as he paces in front of the fire in the common room. They’re the only ones left, having procrastinated doing their homework for far too long and just finishing it a few minutes earlier.

Remus is, once again, in the hospital wing with no visitors allowed. The sixth time since they started Hogwarts last September. Not that Sirius has been counting, or anything.

“It’s perfectly simple. He’s a chick,” Sirius mutters.

“Ha-ha,” Peter sarcastically says. “There must be some recurring illness that we don’t know about, right? Something that would come and go?”

“Of course!” James agrees, snapping his fingers. “Come on!”

“Where are we going?” Sirius groans, sinking deeper into his armchair. The only place he could consider going to is his bed.

“The library of course!”

“James, it’s the middle of the night. If one of the teachers saw us…”

James has already run up the stairs, leaving Peter and Sirius to exchange a confused look.

“I thought he said he wanted to go to the library?” Peter wonders.

“He’s clearly lost it,” Sirius mutters. He closes his eyes, debating whether it would be worth sleeping in the armchair that night, when someone tugs at his hair.

“Hey, cut it off!” Sirius snaps, opening his eyes only to find Peter looking at him with big eyes.

“I didn’t do anything!” he whimpers.

They both get up in a frenzy when a book on the table opens of its own accord.

“It’s gotta be one of the ghosts,” Sirius mumbles to himself, but he can’t see anything.

Not until James’ head suddenly appears suspended in mid-air. Peter shrieks but Sirius bursts out a laugh, approaching his friend as his entire body suddenly becomes visible.

“That is _awesome_. How come you never told us about it?”

“Never found a good occasion. I reckon this will let us go to the library without being seen? Unless poor itty-witty Sirius wants to go to bed?”

“Screw sleep. Let’s go.”

They end up spending the entire night in the library, without success. Sirius falls asleep with his head in a book. James and Peter wake him up at sunrise, and together they go straight to the Great Hall for breakfast. It is the first of many nights spent in the library, however when they keep being unsuccessful their motivation gradually diminishes. Remus doesn’t appear to be going anywhere, so maybe they can leave him be.

**May 26 th 1972**

Remus stops eating the week before the full moon and James will not stop fussing about. It is driving Remus quite mad and even though he does his best to hold it in sometimes his friends notice his short temper. Like in Care of Magical creatures, when Peter accidentally snaps off a Bowtruckle’s leg and Remus nearly throttles him. Or at lunch when James and Sirius spit cherry-seeds at the Slytherin table.

He needs…to be alone. He needs to sit in silence and keep calm and focus on anything besides the ache inside his body.

He finds an old oak tree by the lake and takes refuge in its shade. Summer heat is approaching and he even rolls his shirt sleeves up, inhaling the sweet spring air.

“I brought you some chocolate,” a timid voice says. Remus does not have to open his eyes to know that Peter is the one who sat beside him.

“Thank you,” Remus mumbles. Not even chocolate can spark his appetite. When a whiff of something familiar reaches his heightened sense of smell, however, he straightens up at once.

“Is that…?” he asks, opening his eyes to see Peter take a bite of a chocolate-bar with white filling. Peter grins and holds out an unopened one for him.

“Bounty, yes. My father sent it to me. For my birthday.” He says it without expecting any response from Remus, which shows just how little he thinks of himself.

“Peter, it’s your birthday? And you didn’t tell us?”

Peter shrugs.

“It was last week. Never cared much for my birthday anyways.”

“But your father sent you Muggle-candy?”

“It’s my favourite. How do you know it?”

“My mother is a muggle.”

“Huh.”

They eat their chocolate in silence, watching the sun shimmer on the surface of the Black Lake. Remus realizes, with a smile, that Peter just tricked him into eating.

**Last day before summer 1972**

They’re getting ready to leave the castle, trunks all packed and regular clothes on. James has had a great year, there’s no denying it, but he can’t wait to go home, not have any homework and see his family again.

Him, Remus, Peter and Sirius fill up a horseless wagon that take them to the train. James is going to miss them. However, it’s only for a few months, before they know it they’ll be back at Hogwarts again.

The castle is not visible from the platform, but James still sees how Sirius looks back in its direction.

“You want to stay at the castle all summer?” James grins. Sirius pulls a face at him.

“Of course not. It’s just been a good year.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sirius turns his head towards the train. “Can’t say I’m that excited about going back home.”

James thinks back on Christmas break, the last time Sirius was home, and the shape he was in when they met at Platform 9¾. And he thinks that maybe it’s not so strange that Sirius would rather stay at Hogwarts.

“We’ll hang out all summer,” James says, flinging an arm around Sirius’ neck. “You and me in London, mate, it’ll be great.”

Sirius tries to free himself from James’ grip, Remus helps him, and Peter tells a dumb joke that has them all groaning.

**Summer 1972**

The war reminds them of its presence that summer. James and Sirius, both living in central London, keep up with the news and meet up as frequently as they possibly can. For Sirius, it’s a well-needed escape from his family. For James, it’s an opportunity to figure out exactly what his parents are hiding from him.

Death. So much death. Too much for two eleven-year old brains to process.

They stay in touch with Remus and Peter, both of whom live a few hours away. Peter’s family go to Norway on a holiday, and Remus has a hard time persuading his parents to let him go to London. So they write letters and Sirius and James send them quite a few Howlers, and they talk about the war as if it’s something happening in the distance, too far away to affect them.

They see their first Death Eater in Diagon Alley. Sirius points him out, having seen countless of Voldemort’s followers before, but never like this, outside his house. They watch in awe as people go out of their way to keep their distance from the tall, blonde man. Sirius stares at him defiantly. James doesn’t know how to look away.

That night when they get home, James gets a proper scolding, his mum yelling at him about a disappearance in Knockturn Alley and making him swear never to leave the main street of Diagon Alley.

Sirius meets the same Death Eater in his kitchen as he goes to pester Kreacher about something to eat. His father and the Death Eater sit with their heads close together, murmuring in low, sharp tones. They look up in sync as Sirius enters, but before they can curse at him Walburga shows up and snaps her wand at his heels until he has locked himself into his room.


	4. The Furry Little Problem

**September 1 st 1972**

The sorting hat is placed on Regulus’ head, and Sirius is almost afraid to watch. On the one hand, he can see it right in front of him, Sirius and Regulus, both wearing Gryffindor-red, proud to stand up to their family and all their wretched traditions. On the other hand, Sirius has received at least three Howlers a month since he was sorted into Gryffindor, and he’d rather die than see his mother’s rage directed at his little brother.

“Slytherin!” the hat bellows, and Regulus’ shoulders sag in relief.

“Pity, I thought the lad seemed alright,” James sighs.

“This is better,” Sirius says.

Remus tries, and fails, to turn his grimace into a smile. “Hopefully this will spare him from your mother’s wrath, yes.”

“But he’ll be one of them!” Peter whispers. “A Death Eater!”

A collective groan spreads among the three other boys.

“Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, Pete.”

“Regulus is not stupid. He will stick to the right side, don’t worry.”

Sirius watches his brother sit next to his fellow Slytherins, their prick of a cousin and arsehole of an uncle. Maybe not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, but he knows that keeping Regulus on the right track would have been a lot easier had he been sorted into any other house.

**September 7 th 1972**

With Remus’ recurring illness still a mystery, James, Peter and Sirius read more books than Sirius considers to be healthy. They take piles and piles of books back to the common room and read in front of the fire every night. Sirius’ hope of figuring out Remus’ condition grows smaller with every passing day.

They ask him about it, of course, and tell him every single theory they can come up with, but his answer is always the same: a disappointed shake of his head and lips pressed together in a thin smile.

They have been looking for more than six months, getting no closer to the truth.

But then one night they find it. Or rather, Peter does. He lets out a small whimper and quickly shuts the book in his hands.

“What?” James asks.

“What is it?” Sirius barks.

“I think I found it,” Peter whispers. He opens the book again, going back and forth until he finds the page he was on. Hesitates for just a moment before he shoves the book into James’ hands.

**WEREWOLF**  
M.O.M. CLASSIFICATION: XXXXX ****  
_The werewolf is found worldwide, though it is believed to have originated in northern Europe. Humans turn into werewolves only when bitten. There is no known cure, though recent developments in potion-making have to a great extent alleviated the worst symptoms. Once a month, at the full moon, the otherwise sane and normal wizard or Muggle afflicted transforms into a murderous beast. Almost uniquely among fantastic creatures, the werewolf actively seeks humans in preference to any other kind of prey._

Sirius finishes reading over James’ shoulder and sits back in his chair.

“It makes sense,” he says, more to himself than to the others.

“A werewolf? Are you joking?” James scoffs. When he sees the look on both Peter and Sirius’ faces, he becomes even more doubtful to the idea.

“It’s the only thing we’ve found that takes place once a month, exactly once a month,” Peter argues.

“And I bet if we look back on it, it’s been a full moon every time,” Sirius adds.

“He’s a werewolf,” Peter says. Just like that, they all accept it. Sirius thinks of Remus, of how scared he must be every month. How frustrating it must be to not be able to tell anyone.

“Do we tell Remus?” Sirius wonders out loud. Just as James opens his mouth to reply, Remus shows up.

“Tell me what?” he asks. James quickly slams the book shut, drawing Remus’ eyes to it, and Sirius can see the moment he understands. A flash of fear and something much uglier appears in Remus’ eyes and he starts to back away, hands raised. It breaks Sirius’ heart.

“Remus, mate, it’s okay,” James exclaims. “We don’t care.”

“It’s true,” Peter adds with a small smile. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to pretend, or anything,” Remus says. “I’ll leave you alone, just don’t tell anyone.

Sirius approaches him tentatively. “This changes nothing, Remus. You are still our friend.”

“I’m a monster,” Remus mumbles. “I’m dangerous. A monster.”

James interrupts him. “Remus Lupin, you fold your socks and drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. You don’t strike me as a bloodcurdling beast.”

Sirius laughs softly. “We are your best friends. James and Peter and I. You know we won’t tell anyone. Trust us.”

Remus locks eyes with Sirius, the terrified, feral look slowly fading away into a small flicker of hope.

“Trust us,” Sirius repeats.

For some reason, Remus does. He trusts them unequivocally and wholeheartedly.

**September 22 nd 1972**

Ever since his friends found out about his condition, Remus has been awaiting the inevitable moment when his secret will be revealed. He has never not been betrayed before, so why would things be different now?

It has been two weeks since that dreadful night in the common room, and Remus waits. And waits.

It is the full moon tonight, and he is feeling particularly anxious this month. Most of all, he is afraid that his friends will do something incredibly stupid, like follow him to the Shrieking Shack.

At dinner his muscles are trembling and his eyes burn, and he is desperate to leave. He will not eat anything anyways, so there is not much keeping him there.

Perhaps James’ concern, if anything. It radiates off him.

He only has to think about leaving to make his three friends put down their cutlery and straighten up.

Remus cuts them off before they can start talking. “There is a reason I never told you. It is really dangerous. You must not follow me.”

Sirius looks disappointed, James and Peter deflate a bit but seem to obey.

“Can’t make any promises, mate,” Sirius says quietly. He won’t, though. Remus is quite sure.

He goes to the Shrieking Shack and the transformation is as painful as always, and he can’t really remember what happened but he trusts that his friends did not follow him.

**October 3 rd 1972**

The red-headed girl, Lily Evans, sits close to them at dinner and apparently it is enough to get James into a unusually talkative mood (which is saying something, seeing as James usually talks non-stop).

He tells them about his new broomstick, how he’s going to join Gryffindor’s Quidditch team before long, that they’ll win the house cup once he is there to help.

Remus closes his eyes and tries to shut out his voice. When it doesn’t work, he glances at Lily Evans and how she has pointedly turned her body away from James. James, on the other hand, keeps talking and runs fingers through his hair, looking over his shoulder in Lily’s direction.

Remus sighs and returns to his food.

**November 22 nd 1972**

Remus returns from the full moon looking like death on two legs, and Sirius decides that that’s it. He’s not going to let his friend suffer on his own anymore. Time for drastic measures.

“I have an idea. A reckless, rule-breaking idea that will probably get us expelled and tossed into Azkaban, but it must simply be done.”

“Well?” James asks, eager as ever to break the rules.

“We are going to help Remus with his furry little problem.”

“I’m in! How?”

“I haven’t quite come to that part yet. But it’ll be fabulous.”

And that’s how they, to Sirius’ dismay, once again end up spending every free minute in the library.

**November 29 th 1973**

With Peeves spending the morning blowing up the shoes of every single person walking by outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the teachers are too distracted to notice the four boys who carry every piece of furniture from charms, history of magic and muggle studies and put them on the grass field inside the castle walls used for flying lessons. And despite being easily restored, the prank becomes somewhat of a tradition. At least until Flitwick casts a spell on every chair and table in the entire castle that makes it impossible to move. 

**January 4 th 1973**

“I’ve got it,” James exclaims. Sirius whips his head up and curses a crick in his neck. It’s some ungodly hour in the morning, and they’re spending it in the library instead of in their beds. Sirius misses his bed. Then he thinks of Remus, and decides that maybe his bed is not that important after all.

“What?” Sirius snaps. Peter is hanging over James’ shoulder, reading intently.

“Ani-ma-gus,” Peter reads out. “Anim-agus. What’s that?”

“Animagus,” James says, correcting Peter’s pronunciation. “It’s a transfiguration spell. It lets you turn into an animal.”

“An animal?” Sirius repeats, interest peaked. “What animal?”

“It says here that it depends on the wizard or witch. What you’re like. Sort of like the house sorting, I guess.”

“Alright, but how would it help Remus?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” James says excitedly. He brings out the copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ with an extended entry about werewolves, and reads out loud:

_Werewolves tend to view humans as prey, while they care little for other animals. An eye-witness from Belgravia states that he has, on multiple occasions, seen a werewolf run with wolves as if being a part of the pack._

Peter claps his hands. “So if we turn into animals, he wouldn’t want to harm us? We could keep him company!”

“Come on then, let’s do it!” James exclaims.

“Hang on, have you actually read the instructions to this?” Sirius interrupts, eyeing the open book. “Hold the leaf of a mandrake in your mouth for a month... Recite the spell Amato Animo Animato Animagus daily… A teaspoon of dew... This is not going to be easy.”

“Who said anything about easy? We’re doing this for Remus,” James says firmly. “We can do it.”

“I could probably get some mandrake leaves, I have detention with professor Sprout this afternoon,” Peter says, excited.

James throws a fist in the air. “Brilliant! Sirius, how about you and I go raid professor Slughorn’s storage room?”

“Lead the way!”

“I’m telling you, a month from now we’ll be the youngest animagi ever on Hogwarts! It’ll be easy!”

It was not.

**February 3 rd 1973**

Remus knows that he is a late sleeper, and he has told his friends on multiple occasions to go on and have breakfast without him, but they have never listened to him. At least not until now. He has barely seen them all week, seeing as they have all grabbed breakfast and lunch in under two minutes, only to then return to the common room. Every day.

At least that’s where Remus thinks they go, he hasn’t asked. Every time he tries to go with them they come up with more and more twisted excuses to make him stay. And, well, he can take a hint. They don’t want him around, and so he stops bothering them.

The library has become his go-to-place now that he is alone, because the common room may be homey and safe and close to his bed but it is also filled with people. Both the ones he does not want to talk to and the ones he does, and so avoiding it all is his best option at the moment.

He has found a favourite spot in the library as well, an old armchair propped up by a window in between two bookshelves, where he is currently working on an assignment in potions.

Well, more like staring out the window at the castle grounds. He is now pretty much as many days away from a full moon as possible, and still he feels uneasy. On edge. He unclenches a fist that he was not even aware was clenched, and takes a breath. Does his best to act normal.

“Is that potions homework?” someone, a girl, asks from beside him. He looks up over the edge of his book, wand tucked behind his ear and quill in hand.

Lily Evans is smiling eagerly at him.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind helping me? My _Magical Drafts and Potions_ is missing a few pages, and I can’t find the ingredients to the antidote.”

Remus hastily moves his books and parchment as Lily puts her things down and jumps up to sit on the windowsill. She grabs a piece of parchment with some squiggles on it, rummages in a pocket before pulling out a quill, and takes some ink from Remus’ ink pot.

“I was guessing on a Bezoar, but that’s about it.”

“I’ve got my book right here. It’s a Bezoar, the Standard Ingredient, Unicorn Horns and Mistletoe Berries,” Remus reads. “You need a Pewter, a Brass and a Copper cauldron.”

Lily writes it all down in a haste while biting her bottom lip.

“You’re a lifesaver! Thank you!”

Remus expects her to leave and go back to her friends, but when she stays he does not ask her about it. He offers the book so she can read the instructions for the potion, and still she stays.

After a while he stops thinking about it. She is not disturbing him but leaves a few comments every now and then, how great their last Charms class was, bumping into Filch one night with her friends, the weather, how nice it was to see her parents at Christmas break. When they have both finished their homework they stay for a while longer and talk.

And when it’s time to go to dinner, they leave together and eat together and for the first time in weeks Remus does not think about being alone.


	5. The Birthday

**February 19 th 1973 **

It has been a little more than a month since James found the instructions on how to become an Animagus, and so far the boys have acquired one out of four ingredients.

Their own hair.

It turns out that mandrake leaves are not that easy to steal.

“We can’t do this to Remus,” Sirius says one night. “He thinks we’re pissed off at him or something. It’s not right.”

James frowns seriously and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “He _will_ try to stop us. He will never let us finish this.”

“You don’t know that,” Sirius mutters, knowing very well that James is right.

“Maybe we should take it down a notch?” Peter suggests. “Maybe only on weekends or something?”

“Sounds good. One day every week.”

James says, “Not on Tuesdays or Thursdays. That’s-“

“Quidditch nights, we know,” Peter finishes. “Mondays? Remus’ll be busy studying.”

“He’s always busy studying,” Sirius scoffs. James nods.

“Mondays it is.”

**August 2 nd 1973**

The summer is spent hoarding books, James taking a sudden interest in his father’s potion making, Sirius doing some questionable deals in Knockturn alley for ingredients, and Peter keeping Remus busy so as not to suspect a thing.

**September 10 th 1973**

The first page of _the Prophet_ screams of deaths and murder and attacks in London. Remus carries the newspaper with him all day, having no time to read it more closely until that afternoon, when classes are done. He sits beneath the willow by the lake, his friends off on yet another escapade to which he was not invited, and he reads. He reads and the articles fill his insides with acid. But it doesn’t spur the same rebellion in him as it does James, or the pure terror he sees in Peter and Sirius. Mostly he feels hopeless. Reading about a war he is not yet part of, but surely will be, one day. He cracks his neck and feels the approaching full moon take its toll on his body.

Footsteps approach and he leaves his thoughts.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Lily steps into his field of vision and smiles softly. She spots the paper in his hands and the smile fades into something bitter. “Some pleasant reading this afternoon?”

Remus puts the paper down on his knees, looking up at her, not trusting his voice at the moment. He shakes his head.

“May I?” she gestures at the space of grass next to Remus. He scoots a little to the side and inhales a whiff of her scent when she sits down. She leans back against the tree.

“What does it say?” she asks after a while. Remus lifts the paper up again.

“An explosion at King’s Cross. 13 muggles injured. Four wizards dead. They’re blaming some teenage muggles.”

Lily snorts unhappily. “ _The Guardian_ says the same. Not the wizard-part though. But the teenagers. Not even close to true, is it?”

“I don’t know,” Remus exhales. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“How are you?”

She asks it so suddenly that Remus can’t resist replying.

“Not so great, to be honest.”

She hums in response. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs, wanting so badly to tell her. But he can’t. So he doesn’t. “Not today.”

“Alright. But know that you can tell me. If you want to.”

“Thank you.” He means it.

Lily smiles, Remus can hear it in her voice. “Want to talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

She shrugs. Remus puts down the newspaper, folding it up.

“Did you hear about professor Slughorn’s party?” she says, smile still tinging the words.

Remus turns halfway towards her, contaminated by how amused she is. “A party?”

She nods excitedly. “He invited some of his favourite students. Well, it’s not really a party. More of a dinner. On Wednesday. He said I could bring someone if I wanted to.”

“Ah.”

“Would you like to go with me?”

Remus bows his head down, once again wishing that he could tell her. Wednesday. The night of the full moon.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

She seems to understand, although she looks a little disappointed.

“You should ask James,” Remus suggests, wink in his eye.

The reaction is imminent. Lily jumps where she sits, angrily shoving a strand of hair away from her face. “What? Why would I ask him? He’s an arse.”

Remus laughs, tossing the paper away to the side. “He’s not that bad.”

“No? How about this: he’s a mean prick who doesn’t care for anything but his own reputation.”

“You really do hate him, don’t you? It’s quite impressive, considering you’ve never talked to him.”

Lily flushes red, combing back the stray hairs that keep doing what they please. “I don’t _hate_ him. He’s just…”

“An arse?” Remus offers. Lily sticks her tongue out at him.

“Exactly.”

“You don’t mind me hanging out with him then?” Remus says.

“You four are…” she scrunches her nose, waving a hand in front of her in an attempt at finding the right word. “I don’t even know what to say. Inseparable troublemaking marauders, the lot of you.”

Remus laughs harder. “And still, here you sit, talking to one of us.”

“Can’t imagine what has gotten into me,” she grins.

**September 25 th 1973**

There’s a knock on McGonagall’s door, and James Potter’s head appears.

“Professor McGonagall?”

“Yes, Potter?”

He enters the room, fiddling with the sleeves of his robes.

“Are mandrake leaves poisonous?”

McGonagall stares at him blankly.

“Hypothetically,” he adds.

She puts down the quill in her hand and peers at him over the edge of her glasses. “In what context?”

“Oh, I’m just asking for…an essay.”

McGonagall sighs. “Everything is poisonous in a high enough dose.” James rolls his eyes so hard that McGonagall feels like telling him off for it. Instead, she adds, “Three or four leaves should be fine to swallow. More than that, I dare not say.”

“Great! Thank you, professor!”

James turns on his heels and is halfway out the door in a split second. “Wait, Potter! Hypothetically, right?”

He grins. “Of course.”

**October 28 th 1973**

Peter climbs through the portrait hole into the common room, books piled high in his arms. The four of them are doing homework for History of Magic together and when they realized they were missing a few books Peter lost the battle of not going to the library. On his return he puts the books in a pile on the table and gets to work. Remus is kind enough to fill him in on what they had been talking about during his absence, which turns out to have been fifteen minutes straight of James and Sirius arguing. Remus isn’t too sure what about. Something to do with the best method to get a niffler to ride a dragon.

They get to work, Sirius finishing first as always. Tonight he doesn’t leave them, and he doesn’t try to engage into conversation. He sits quietly in his armchair and twirls the quill in his hand. The only reason Peter knows this is because he is too distracted by Sirius’ lack of attention-seeking to get any work done. He writes two or three words, then looks up at Sirius. A calm and quiet Sirius.

He has written almost a paragraph when he looks up only to see Sirius dipping the quill in ink, thinking maybe he is about to make some change to his essay. Then he starts to draw on his own skin. He makes harmless depictions of flowers, patterns and letters that form unreadable words, and it’s strange to see him sitting in silence, drawing on his hand.

“What are you doing?” Peter asks, not noticing how Sirius’ cheeks flame red as he quickly tugs his hand out of sight.

“Nothing.”

“Why are you drawing on your hand?”

“No reason.”

James looks up, tilts his head at Peter and squints at Sirius.

Sirius shrugs.

When James doesn’t say anything, Sirius grabs his stuff and leaves.

**October 31 st 1973**

It’s Dumbledore’s annual Halloween speech, dragging out for much longer than usual, and the plates in front of them are shiny enough for Sirius to use as a mirror.  
Meaning that they are _not_ buried underneath mountains of food.

James’ stomach growls in protest.

He is bored out of his mind and can’t wait for the feast to begin, but still he catches the last part of the headmaster’s speech.

“With all this darkness threatening our very existence, I must urge you to aim for the stars. Now, let us feast.”

A collective gasp runs through the group of students as the plates fill up with quite a magnificent Halloween feast, with pies and pumpkins, potatoes and steak, and the Gryffindors are not slow to dig in. James fills up his plate with everything within arm’s reach, pleased to see that Remus has already started to eat and that Peter puts some veggies next to his meat.

Across from him, Sirius grins with his cheeks stuffed with food. James takes another spoonful of mashed potatoes, freezing halfway to his plate.

 _Aim for the stars_ , Dumbledore had said.

He looks at the spoon with potatoes. He looks at Sirius’ grin. And without giving it a second thought, he flicks the spoon right at Sirius’ face and watches the mashed potatoes get in his eyes, his mouth, his hair, well, everywhere.

It is glorious.

A moment of silence from his friends pass, suddenly broken by Sirius’ yell:

“FOOD FIGHT!” 

It is, nicely put, a mess. Students from every house get up and throw handfuls of food across the Great Hall, not aiming at anything in particular and not waiting long enough to see if they hit anything, potatoes, parsnips, leek and tomatoes, pumpkins and bread, it is all ammunition in the war of food and no one is safe. Not even the teachers, some of which have already fled to the teacher’s lounge, some of which join in. James looks up to see Dumbledore with herring in his beard, tossing a pickled carrot at professor Sprouts’ head.

If McGonagall would have had it, the whole school would’ve been put in detention.

**November 1 st 1973**

After Peter asked Sirius about drawing on his skin, James can’t stop thinking about it. It happens regularly during the next couple of days, during classes, breakfast, in the common room. Every piece of free skin is covered with black ink. Lines, different shapes, flowers, stars, anything and everything.

**November 2 nd 1973**

The following morning, the happy and innocent shapes on Sirius’ arms are suddenly exchanged for dark clouds, shapes and figures. With them comes a change in Sirius’ mood, and for the first time since they got to know each other, he doesn’t immediately tell James what it is. Despite James asking about it again and again.

**November 3 rd 1973**

Sirius is quiet, which is uncharacteristic of him, and looks a bit rough around the edges, and James wonders if he will cut himself on them if he gets too close. But it is a risk he is most willing to take.

“Sirius?” he says, late at night in the common room with almost everyone already gone to bed.

“What?” Sirius bites. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he is busy adding more black ink to the collection of drawings.

“Ouch. Go easy on me, mate,” James laughs. 

Sirius grits his teeth. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

He looks up, apparently surprised at the question.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you’ve turned your skin into a canvas, that’s why.”

“Oh,” he flushes red, tugging at his sleeve to cover the sketches. James can still see some of it peeking out from underneath the fabric. “I dunno.”

James gives him The Look. It works. It always works. Sirius huffs his defeat and falls back into the couch.

“It helps me relax. It makes it less painful.”

“Makes what less painful?” James says softly.

There is that odd expression again, only this time Sirius doesn’t immediately shut it down. “Everything,” he says.

They sit in silence for a while when an owl arrives with a parcel, landing on Sirius’ knee. James considers the date and his friend’s mood and puts two and two together, and finally it all makes sense.

“Today is your birthday,” he says without warning.

“Hush!” Sirius hisses, casting worried glances around the empty common room.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“So what?”

“We should celebrate!”

“I’d rather not. I never…”

“What?”

“Let’s just say my past birthdays haven’t been all that great. It’s not a good day for me.”

“But-“

“James, _please_ ,” Sirius whispers. Their eyes lock and James realizes what an idiot he has been, that his very best friend has been hiding something from him for two years now and he never even noticed it.

Not true, he thinks, because there have been odd signs every now and then. Sirius not wanting to leave Hogwarts at the end of their first year. Him coming back from Christmas break with bruises. Being terrified to be sorted into Gryffindor.

“Sirius, are you okay?” James asks, blunt and bold because it is the only way he can make himself say it. Sirius lowers his gaze to the floor and shakes his head.

“It’s my mother.”

That night, James learns every little detail of life in the Blacks’ house, and with every word he grows more determined to never let Sirius go back there.


	6. The Greatest Prank

**December 14 th 1973**

Peter gets the idea at the end of a Care of Magical Creatures lesson. As soon as professor Kettleburn turns his back, Peter opens up his bag and gets to work. No one notices him, not even his friends, and he is quick to follow his classmates once he is done.

“Oi, come over here,” he calls to James and Sirius and Remus as they enter the castle. While the rest of the Gryffindor third-years head off towards the Great Hall for lunch, the four boys head down a different corridor, not stopping until they are alone.

“What’s up?” James asks. Peter can hear his stomach growling from where he’s standing. Barely able to contain his smugness, Peter opens up his bag.

James and Remus back off as soon as they see the bag’s contents, while Sirius laughs and claps his hands together.

“Bloody brilliant! Fire ants!” Sirius says.

“What are we going to do with fire ants? Put them in Dumbledore’s pumpkin juice?” James says, only partly joking.

“I was thinking the dungeons would be a fine place…?” Peter suggests, seeing the cogs turn in his friends’ heads.

“That does sound like a fine place for fire ants,” James agrees.

“Ants thrive in dark and murky places, it’s a known fact,” Remus says sarcastically, making the other three laugh.

“That’s settled then,” James says. “Sirius, you run ahead and check that the coast is clear. If you see any Slytherins, tell ‘em you’re looking for your cousins.”

Sirius nods sharply and marches off, head held high and not a care in the world. James, Remus and Peter follow him slowly, waiting at every corner to see if they’re clear to go on, reaching the Slytherin’s common room in no time.

After the deed is done, they are stopped on a staircase heading towards the Gryffindor common room. Professor McGonagall needn’t do more than clear her throat to rein them in, as effective as putting a spell on them.

“Well?” she snaps, looking down on them even though she is standing quite a few steps below. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Peter bends his neck, ears flushing red. Sirius does not seem to share his embarrassment. “We approve of your new spectacles, professor. Really brings out the murdering glint in your eyes,” he says.

“One could almost say they are…on _fire_ ,” Remus says quietly, only for his friends’ ears. They try furiously to hide their giggles.

“The _ants_ , you troll-headed buffalos. The two-hundred and thirty-four fire ants that you unleashed in the Slytherin common room,” McGonagall says.

James is not slow to reply. “We didn’t _unleash_ them as much as we turned Peter’s bag inside out.”

“They were very reluctant to go, you see,” Sirius fills in. “Because someone had a chocolate frog in the bottom of his bag.” He casts a pointed glance at Peter.

Peter mumbles, “I was saving it.”

They seem to simultaneously realize their blabbering and turn to the professor sheepishly. She is positively fuming.

“Detention,” she gets out through gritted teeth. “For the lot of you.”

**February 14 th 1974 **

Peter becoming good friends with the house-elves presents a unique opportunity for a prank. Peter also has the self-control to hide behind his friends when accused of something.

James, however, does not.

It does not help that he has a reputation for being outstandingly good at potions.

At least not when every single student and staff member in the Great Hall get love potion in their drinks.

It is the most hilarious and chaotic fifteen minutes of Sirius’ life. He, of course, along with Remus, James and Peter, have not had anything to eat or drink yet, sober enough to enjoy the spectacle that is every Hogwarts student pushing their way to their beloved. Robes are torn, noses are broken and bruises are made.

It is also amazingly entertaining when professor McGonagall towers behind James. Her glasses look close to spontaneously exploding.

“ _Explain_.”

James takes the bait. “Did you not have your pumpkin juice yet, professor?”

Now McGonagall’s head looks close to exploding. “You hog-headed thestrals! Tell me how you did this or lose fifty house points.”

“Oh, now, ma’am, haven’t you heard? A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“A hundred points, Potter!”

“A hundred points? Are you that impressed by my potion-making?”

Peter and Sirius snort their laughs into Remus’ robes, while Remus somehow does not break.

“Potter, you have just lost all of Gryffindor’s house points in less than three minutes.”

“That must be a record!”

James, Peter and Sirius end up in detention, Remus getting off the hook simply due to his ability to keep a straight face.

**April 1 st 1974**

Professor McGonagall wakes up with a bad feeling. A worry, hanging in the air. And it’s not until she heads down for breakfast, _Daily Prophet_ in hand, that she gets a look at the date and everything falls into place.

April 1st. April fools. Peter and James suddenly run out in front of her to get to the Great Hall.

“Pettigrew! Potter!” she calls. They hardly slow down, but at least have the respect to turn their heads to look at her.

“Aw, professor, running isn’t forbidden now, is it?” James laughs.

“No, but may I remind you of the quite extensive book of rules this school has. You might want to have a look before…”

“Before what, professor?” Peter says, far down the corridor now.

McGonagall shakes her head and watches them go.

Mr. Filch comes up to her on the third floor.

“Professor,” he greets.

“Mr. Filch.”

“I trust you know what day it is?”

“Monday?”

Mr. Filch grunts. “April first, professor. And those four…those…” he spits, veins already popping on his forehead.

“The Gryffindor boys?” McGonagall fills in. Mr. Filch nods fervently.

“Remember last year?”

McGonagall remembers. They had to close all the classrooms on the second floor for days.

“I’m sure you have prepared properly.”

“Ma’am, if you let me… I wouldn’t mind rounding them up before they get into trouble. I still have those ear-twisters, and the nail-crackers…”

“We don’t perform punishment pre-emptively, Mr. Filch, as I’m sure you know. Now, I would like to have my breakfast in peace. You might want to check the third floor. I saw two of them hurrying down the stairs.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.”

McGonagall watches him scurry off up the stairs, the cat on his heels.

She gets as far as to the doors of the Great Hall where she meets Filius. He squeaks a little as though startled.

“Minerva! Quite a day we have in front of us, huh?”

“It’s just like any other day, Filius, and high time for breakfast,” McGonagall insists, voice sharp and stern. She really prefers starting her day with a cup of tea. Not hunting fourth-years and calming her colleagues.

“Of course, of course! But I must inform you of some of my students’ wishes.”

“And what would that be, Filius?”

“They have asked me to get the day off.”

McGonagall forces a deep breath through her nose to keep from saying something highly inappropriate. “I beg your pardon?”

Filius shifts on his feet. “You see- they don’t consider the school to be safe.”

“That’s preposterous!”

“As I told them! Until they reminded me of the date.”

“The date.”

“And what happened last year.”

“Last year.”

“And, quite frankly, the fact that those Gryffindor boys will stop at _nothing_ -“

“Are you accusing students of my house?”

Filius laughs nervously. “Minerva, surely you agree? I was impressed with the floating beds…”

“As were we all.”

“…the furniture stuck to the ceiling…”

“A most memorable event.”

“…and the silencing charm on the ghosts…”

“A truly peaceful day.”

Filius’ cheeks start to turn red. “All great performances of magic. But also quite prohibited. Now, those boys are trouble all year round, but whatever they have planned for today…”

McGonagall arches an eyebrow.

Filius sighs, exasperated. “I suggest you deal with it before it affects the rest of the school’s houses! And my students’ education!”

“Filius,” McGonagall says sharply. He quiets down. “I will see to it.”

She leaves without another word.

The rest of McGonagall’s day is spent chasing the four Gryffindors and arguing with her fellow staff members whether to lock them up until the end of the day, but as the hours tick by and turn to lunch, afternoon, supper and late night, there has still not been a single incident.

When she finally goes to bed, McGonagall realizes that this was the boys’ greatest prank of all.

**June 2 nd 1974**

In the last week before summer break, all their exams are done and they spend the days under the tree by the lake, doing absolutely nothing. Remus lies in the sun while Peter and Sirius complain about it being too hot. James is busy drawing in a notebook, holding it towards his chest every time someone tries to get a peek.

Just as Peter tosses an acorn at James’ head (and actually manages to hit James’ head), Marcelle, one of their classmates, walks by towards the castle.

“What’s up, Marcy?” James calls.

“Didn’t you hear? The exam results have arrived!”

The boys get to their feet and up to the castle very quickly after that. The door to McGonagall’s office is open, plenty of kids lining the hall outside and trying to get in. Through the noise they can hear her voice, telling everyone to please be quiet.

James pushes Peter in front of him through the crowd, grabs Sirius’ shirt and Remus is quick to follow. They get to the desk where a deflated McGonagall sits, a resemblance of a smile crossing her face as she spots them.

“I was waiting for you four to show up. Here you go, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, Potter.”

They get a paper each and leave.

Outside, Remus unfolds his paper and eyes the grades. They are…not great, to say the least. But he wasn’t expecting anything else. He folds the paper up again and stuffs it into his pocket, hoping his friends will not ask him about it.

He looks up to see the three of them comparing grades.

“Oi, Peter got top scores in herbology!”

“And top marks all around for Sirius, no surprises there. I must say I’m pleased with passing transfiguration. What about you, Remus?” James asks. Remus shakes his head.

Sirius laughs. “Don’t be shy, show us!”

“He doesn’t want us to feel stupid,” Peter says.

“C’mon!” James urges again. He keeps Remus occupied so he doesn’t notice Sirius darting around his back and picking the grades from his pocket before it’s too late.

“Let’s see what the mastermind has!” Sirius grins, unfolding the paper and preparing to read out loud.

His mouth freezes on the first syllable. He looks at Remus. Then back at the paper. “Nah, something must be wrong. You must’ve gotten someone else’s grades, these are worse than Peter’s!”

“Thanks,” Peter mutters, slapping the side of Sirius’ arm.

“Let’s hear it,” James says.

“The only one that’s higher than acceptable is Defense against the dark arts. You’re hanging by a thin thread.”

Three pairs of eyes turn to him.

Remus shrugs. “What did you expect?”

James laughs and sounds almost offended. “You’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Uh-uh, I like books. That’s not the same thing as being smart. And I also have a substantial amount of absence.”

The light seems to switch on behind all of their eyes simultaneously.

“Of course,” Sirius says.

“We didn’t mean anything by it,” Peter says.

James bites at his thumbnail and gives Remus’ grades another glance. “Mate, seriously. We will help you. With notes and all that. Why haven’t you asked us?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says with a shrug.


	7. The Mandrake Leaf

**September 1 st 1974**

Remus isn’t there on their first night back in the castle, and it makes everything feel wrong. Empty. Only three parts of a whole filled.

James fills the emptiness with jokes and stories, Peter chimes in and encourages him, Sirius does his best to laugh and act normal.

By the time the first years have been sorted and Dumbledore has held his speech and they’ve reached the pudding, the clouds on the ceiling part and reveal a brilliant full moon.

Sirius turns his head down to his plate and tries not to imagine hearing a howl in the distance.

**September 3 rd 1974**

He looks worse than ever when they finally meet up two days later. James is the first to arrive at the Great Hall for breakfast (Sirius and Peter had gotten stuck fighting over who was to shower first) and spots Remus alone at the end of the Gryffindor table. There is a plate with toast and a cup of juice in front of him, but his head is resting on the table and his eyes are open and glazed.

He doesn’t react until James has taken the seat next to him. Slowly he lifts his head from the table, squaring his shoulders with a wince as he straightens up. James has never seen him like this and he does not know what to say – if there is one thing he has learnt it is that Remus hates pity with every fibre of his being, but it is difficult not to feel sorry for his friend when he looks this close to death. To James’ great relief Remus doesn’t seem to mind the silence, and he accepts the slices of toast with butter and jam that James adds to his plate. Unsteady hands pick up the bread and he takes a bite.

Remus finishes one and a half slices of toast before Sirius and Peter join them, as far from gentle as possible.

“Oi, Remus, you look like shit!” Sirius exclaims. The corner of Remus’ mouth quirks up.

“Thanks.”

“Your furry little problem getting out of hand?”

Remus’ smile widens.

Sirius takes a toast from James’ plate and shoves it into his own mouth. “’ou misched ‘e ‘thortin’ ‘at’s fpeech,” he says while chewing. Remus turns hopelessly to Peter and James.

“The sorting hat gave quite a long speech on the importance of friendship and, you know, the usual,” Peter explains.

“Speakin’ o’ friendship,” Sirius continues, swallowing at last. “I spot a red-head coming this way.”

James’ ears instantly start to burn and he devotes all his attention to the toast on his plate. 

“Hey, Evans!” Sirius calls out, waving at someone behind James. Footsteps approach and James makes sure to pay very close attention to buttering the toast on his plate.

“What?” an exasperated voice belonging to none other than Lily says. James clears his throat and turns around in his seat with a brilliant smile.

“What’s up, Evans?”

She looks at him as if he is a piece of treacle tart stuck underneath her shoe. When she keeps walking down the table, James jumps to his feet and follows her.

“You wanna go to Hogsmeade with me?”

She snorts. “Do _I_ want to go to Hogsmeade with _you_?”

“That’s what I said.”

“The first visit isn’t until a few weeks.”

James smiles smugly. “So you’ve checked out the date already. Dear Merlin, are you that excited about going there with me?”

“You’re such an arse,” Lily snaps, pulling Marlene’s arm to go faster.

“He has the greatest arse in the school!” Sirius shouts after them, laughing as James returns to his friends.

“That went well,” James grins.

“Any day now,” Sirius agrees, raising his hand for a high-five.

James turns to share the excitement with Remus who he finds is just staring at them with blank eyes.

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” he mumbles.

**September 4 th 1974**

It’s been a hell of a day, literally, and the Fat Lady’s got an attitude when Remus tells her “Griffin Beaks and Hippogriff claws” instead of the other way around. He’s downright devoid of any will of life once he finally enters the common room, where his feet lead him to the lonely boy on the couch, and before he knows it he has collapsed with his head in Sirius’ lap.

“Bad day?” Sirius hums.

“You have no idea.”

A piece of chocolate is offered to him.

“Want to hear about my day?” Sirius says softly. It’s not like him, speaking with that voice. Remus kind of likes it.

“Go on.”

“Well, it all started in herbology. You know how I feel about herbology…”

Remus drifts off, finally being able to relax with Sirius’ voice behind him and hands buried deep in his hair. 

**September 9 th 1974**

“We have to hold a mandrake leaf in our mouths for a _month_. A MONTH.”

“It’s been 24 days, James,” Sirius says. He’s quite gotten used to the taste of mandrake. Or maybe his entire mouth now bears the taste of it. Or maybe he’s lost all sense of flavour.

“Everything I eat tastes like mandrake!” James continues.

Peter frowns. “This is the fourth time we try this. Aren’t you used to it by now?”

James looks ridiculously offended. It makes Sirius laugh. “Am I _used_ to holding a _leaf_ in my _mouth_?”

“C’mon, mate, it’s not too bad. Only one week to go,” Sirius chuckles.

**September 29 th 1974**

When James wakes up in the middle of the night he has no idea why, but something has triggered every nerve in his body and he sits up, wide awake. Blindly he reaches for his glasses and puts them on. The room beyond the curtains is dark and quiet when he pulls them apart.

Then he hears it. A muffled sob to his left.

“Sirius?” he whispers.

The sobbing stops. Sirius sniffles.

James gets to his feet and walks over to Sirius’ bed, poking his head through the curtains. It’s dark and all James can see is a vague outline of a body.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Sirius breathes, choking on the syllables.

“Is there anything I can do?”

A rustle. James wonders what it means.

“Do you want to be left alone?”

“No,” Sirius says, almost too quickly. James reaches for what he thinks is Sirius’ arm and nudges at it until Sirius scoots over to the side, making room for James to lie down. He crawls underneath the covers and makes himself comfortable, eyelids growing heavy once again.

**October 9 th 1974**

After _months_ of planning, preparations and multiple failed attempts, they finally do it. A thunderstorm in the middle of the night wakes James and he feels excitement bubbling in his chest as he pulls out his trunk to have a look at the three cauldrons with potion.

Blood red.

They did it.

Doing his best not to disturb Remus (and thanking Merlin that he is a heavy sleeper), he wakes Peter and Sirius and together they sneak into the empty common room.

There is some tension as they stand in a half-circle, one glass each.

“Who’s first?” Sirius grins.  
“Together,” James suggests, Peter nodding so quickly that it looks as though his head might fall off.

“One,” James says.

“Two,” Peter says.

“Three!” Sirius finishes.

James chugs the potion, making sure to swallow it all even though it tastes like pickled beetroots and something sharp. It burns in his throat on the way down.

As he looks up, Peter and Sirius’ glasses are both empty as well.

Peter laughs uncertainly.

“Is that it?” he says.

Sirius shrugs.

Suddenly James’ throat is on fire, and his heart is racing in his chest. From what he can tell, his friends are going through the same experience. His heartbeat turns louder and louder until he can discern two separate paces, one slower, one quicker, both pounding away.

He feels it take shape in his mind, long legs, brown, speed, hearing, sight – then without warning he transforms.

It is, put simply, quite a miracle that no one wakes up.

James’ first impression of being a deer is _fear_ – someone is hunting him. Someone is watching. Eyes. A threat.

He bolts for cover.

The second thing he learns about his new form is that he has antlers. Quite sturdy ones, it appears, as he tears down the tapestries on the west wall and is tangled up in the fabric, still running for cover, ending up halfway up the girls’ stairs before they turn into the slide and he glides down, landing on his back, legs straight up.

A dog and a mouse laughing their arses off is something he never thought he’d see.

Sirius is the first to turn back, a wheezing, crying form on the floor, gasping for air as he laughs and laughs.

With some effort James sees his human self and shifts into that form, pleased to lose the antlers; still wrapped up in the tapestry.

Peter turns back as well, also laughing so hard he can’t even open his eyes.

“Ha ha,” James snaps, trying to find a way out of the fabric. Sirius and Peter move to help, but have to stop again and again as the laughing fits continue.

“What are you supposed to be?” Sirius howls, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“A reindeer!” Peter cries, pulling hard at the tapestry and making James fall again.

“A _deer_!” James corrects. “And you two? A stray and a mouse?”

“A rat!” Peter and Sirius say at once.

“I almost ate him!” Sirius adds cheerfully.

James is finally freed from the tapestry and steps away from it as though it had offended him deeply only by existing.

He looks at his two friends, feels the second heartbeat deep inside him, and suddenly it hits him.

They did it.

“Holy Merlin, we actually did it,” he says out loud. Sirius and Peter are beaming.

“We did it!” Peter cheers.

“When is the next full moon?” Sirius asks.

“Last of October,” James says, always keeping track of it subconsciously.

Sirius whoops. “Man, I can’t wait to see Remus’ face!”

It is truly a miracle that no one woke up.


	8. The Animagi(/Animagus/Animagus's)

**November 1 st 1974**

Sirius, James and Peter sit by Remus’ bed in the hospital wing even though they are not technically allowed to. Their last class of the day is over, they have the entire weekend to finish their assignments and Madam Pomfrey is currently occupied with tending to a second-year who accidentally transformed her own feet into fins in transfiguration.

James sits on a chair by Remus’ right side, Sirius opposite him and Peter on the bed by Remus’ feet. They talk quietly among themselves, or, well, semi-quietly at least, because Peter just told a horrible joke and James can’t stop laughing.

“Oi, shut it!” Sirius snaps suddenly, scooting his chair a little closer to Remus. “How you feeling?”

Remus’ eyes are open and he smiles as he wakes up surrounded by his friends. James leans back and exhales heavily. They have to tell Remus. It was supposed to be a grand revealing and Remus was supposed to be delighted, but they still haven’t decided how to actually do it. And now that they’ve just spent the night with the wolf, well… Remus might want to know.

“Hey, Remus…” James starts, but is cut off by a sudden frown. Remus drags his body into a sitting position with a helping hand from Sirius and gives all three of them long, narrow-eyed looks.

“I had the craziest dream…” he begins.

Sirius freezes.

“Yeah?” James says, going for oblivious.

“Yeah, you three…” He lets his index finger bounce from James to Peter to Sirius. “You were with me last night. Only…”

James and Sirius exchange a look and try not to laugh.

Remus groans. “Oh, _fuck_ me, what did you do? How did you…?”

Peter snorts a laugh, and then the three of them are all shaking from laughter while Remus seems to want to sink through the bed.

“You _idiots_ , you complete _morons_ , what have you done?”

“Well…” James says, dragging it out for as long as possible. When neither Sirius or Peter seem eager to take over, he continues. “We may have, maybe, accidentally-“

“What do you mean _accidentally_?” Sirius snorts.

“-become Animagus. Animagus’s?”

“Animagi,” Sirius adds helpfully.

“Animagi,” James repeats.

“We did it for you!” Peter exclaims when Remus doesn’t react.

“Right!” James says. “So we could join you every month.”

“Keep you company,” Sirius continues with a nod.

Remus looks downright murderous.

“Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous that is? I could-“ He pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues in a whisper, “I could kill you. Or worse, bite you.”

Peter shakes his head. “Werewolves don’t attack other animals. We were fine all night.”

“Pete’s right,” James says. “He actually seemed to enjoy the company.”

“Oh, so we’re calling it a “he” now? You three are fucking idiots.”

“Well, you were an idiot for thinking we were going to let you go through it all alone every month for the rest of your life,” Sirius barks back. It shuts Remus up for the moment, but he is still fuming. They sit in silence for a while. James keeps his eyes fixed on a crack in one of the floor’s tiles.

“You’re not joking?” Remus asks eventually. The three boys shake their heads. “This is some serious magic, isn’t it? How long did it take?”

“We started planning it almost two years ago now,” Peter says.

Remus’ eyes bulge but in his defence he doesn’t say anything. James is slightly worried he might have an aneurysm unless he calms down, so he quickly changes the subject.

“Now that all four of us have permanent fur-problems, I suggest we come up with a name.”

“A name?” Peter frowns.

“Think about it! _The four-legged_ …”

“..foursome?” Sirius smirks, making three boys laugh while Remus shakes his head.

Then a grin spreads on his face. “Marauders.”

“What’s that?”

“Something Lily called us.”

James, to no one’s surprise, is on board. “ _The Marauders_! Yes! Now we just have to work on codenames as well.”

The rest of them groan loudly.

They hang out and talk for a while (Remus gives them all scolding looks and yells at them some more until Madame Pomfrey comes around and tells them to be quiet) before it’s dinnertime and they have to leave Remus behind. 

“That went well,” Sirius says as soon as they have left the hospital wing. Peter and James sigh in unison.

“At least he didn’t hex us,” Peter mumbles.

“Hey, don’t be such a downer! We did it, guys. We actually did it, and it _worked_.”

James squares his shoulders. “You’re right. McGonagall would be so proud.”

“Pity she can’t ever find out.”

**November 3 rd 1974**

Sirius can’t sleep. He watches the clock go from late to midnight to past midnight, has to tell himself over and over that it is his birthday before he believes it. Fifteen years old. His parents hate him more than ever and his brother is slowly slipping through his fingers. He might as well try to catch smoke with his bare hands.

Fifteen.

As he comes to terms with the fact that he will not get any sleep tonight, he wraps himself up in his blanket and decides to lay in front of the fire in the common room instead.

The only problem is that the space in front of the fire is already occupied. By a certain red-headed witch.

Her head shoots up when she hears him, and it’s too late and too quiet to not acknowledge her presence.

“Evans,” Sirius says.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with some hostility. Understandable. Sirius has done nothing to earn her kindness.

“Can’t sleep. You?”

At that, she lies back down and closes her eyes, hair a red tornado around her. “Me neither.”

Sirius transfers his weight from one foot to the other. He doesn’t have the energy to stand here and chat, he doesn’t want to go back to bed, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Just as he turns around, Lily speaks, very quietly. “You can join me. If you want.”

Sirius considers her, lying on her back on the floor, legs resting up on the sofa in front of the fire.

“Sure,” he says.

Sirius lies in front of the fire and tucks the blanket in underneath his feet. He’s cold, and he hates being cold. Always has.

“So,” Lily says. “What’s got you up at this hour?”

Sirius scoffs. “It’s my birthday. Never been a good day for me.” He takes in his surroundings. The thick carpet underneath him. The worn sofa. The crackling fire somewhere behind them. Lily’s perfume next to him. She doesn’t press on about his birthday, for which he is grateful.

“I can’t stop thinking about the Carries. Michelle left a few hours ago,” Lily whispers.

Right. Mr. and Mrs. Carrie and their son Roger, found dead in their home. Michelle Carrie, third-year Gryffindor, now an orphan. Sirius pulls the blanket a little tighter around his body.

“You worried about your folks?” Sirius asks.

Lily seems taken aback by the question. “I don’t know,” she replies eventually. “They’re muggles. And I keep them updated, of course, but they don’t get it. They don’t get that Voldemort will kill them, that he doesn’t care if they’re witches or wizards or just ordinary people. They think this war is just for us.”

Sirius shudders when Lily says the name. He can’t help it.

He can see Lily turn her head towards him, regarding him from the side. “What about you? Do you worry about your parents?”

“Nah,” Sirius snorts. “They’re practically Death Eaters, if someone’s going to come after them it’s certainly not the bad side.”

Lily inhales sharply. Sirius can’t blame her.

“I didn’t know…” she says.

“Of course you didn’t. How could you?”

She turns onto her side completely, resting her head on her hands as she keeps watching Sirius.

“Your parents – they’re…? Are they really…?” Lily mumbles.

“Yes.”

She sighs. “I bet they love that you’re in Gryffindor.”

Sirius laughs coldly. “I sure made them proud.”

There’s a bit of silence, which doesn’t bother Sirius all that much. He is surprised at how…pleasant Lily’s company is. At least now that she is not trying to actively murder him.

“Hey, Sirius?” she whispers after a while.

“Mm?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“What?” Sirius snaps.

Lily laughs softly. “I’m proud of you for not just doing whatever your family tells you to. It’s very brave.”

“Well, maybe I am a Gryffindor, after all,” Sirius snorts. Lily hits his arm.

“I’m serious.”

“Lily Evans, you did not just say those words to me.”

“What?” Lily says, her turn to be confused. Sirius turns his head to face her and feels a grin growing on his lips.

“ _I’m_ Sirius,” he says.

Lily retaliates by swiftly grabbing a cushion off the couch and hitting Sirius’ head with it. Repeatedly.

When Sirius returns to the common room that afternoon, he is surprised to find it packed to the brim with students and ghosts, and even Peeves, and he is even more surprised when everybody starts cheering as he walks in.

When they start to sing “Happy Birthday,” Sirius instantly knows who to blame.

“James!” he shouts, finding his friend at the top of the stairs.

“Happy birthday, mate!” James yells. Sirius wants to sink through the floor.

People come up to him and wish him a happy birthday, Peter gives him a whole bag of things from Zonko’s, there is music and food and Sirius is reluctant to feel a smile creeping up. He can’t help it.

 _Damn Prongs_.

He is in the middle of trying out a fake wand from Zonko’s when there is a little parting in the crowd and the last person he ever thought he would see at his birthday party shows up with a hint of a smile.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Black,” Dumbledore says, offering a little bow. Sirius stares at him, dumbstruck.

“Professor Dumbledore, Sir, I didn’t think you’d show up!” James, who suddenly showed up out of nowhere, exclaims, shaking Dumbledore’s hand and beaming at Sirius.

“I could never resist a party.” He sniffs the air and perks up. “Is that lemon sherbet I smell? Excuse me, gentlemen.”

Sirius turns to James.

“Might want to close your mouth,” James snorts. Sirius hadn’t even realized it was open.

“You invited Dumbledore?”

James shrugs. “Why not?”

“I can’t even…” Sirius starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. James only laughs.

“Happy Birthday, buddy.”

“Yeah.”

The evening passes, people mingle around but drop out one by one until there’s only about a dozen left. With James and Peter entertaining some first-years with tricks from Zonko’s, Sirius finds himself sitting alone in front of the fire.

Someone clears their throat behind him and he turns, only to find Remus there with a sheepish smile, wearing his warmest brown sweater. He’s pale and bruised and has some gauze wrapped around his left hand and arm, but he’s there.

“Hey,” he greets, and holds out a parcel. “Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let me leave till now. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

Sirius accepts the gift and turns it over in his hands. It’s square-shaped and feels compact, which can only mean one thing.

“Did you get me a book?”

If Sirius didn’t know any better, he would say that Remus is blushing. “It’s okay if you don’t like it, I just thought…Well. Don’t worry. I won’t get mad if you want to get rid of it or whatever.”

“Way to sell in your gift,” Sirius snorts, but tears the wrapping paper off all the same. He is surprised to find a worn copy of a muggle book inside, wearing the title _Dracula_. “What’s this?”

“It’s about vampires. I mean, muggles don’t know they’re real, but this guy comes pretty close. It’s my own copy. And I thought maybe you’d like it. And…”

“Thank you,” Sirius interrupts, eyes glued to the book but he forces himself to look up at Remus. “Really. Thank you.”

Remus shrugs. “Happy birthday.”

Somehow, it feels more genuine coming from Remus than it has from anyone else.

**November 18 th 1974**

James and Sirius come crashing down into the common room where Remus and Peter have, up until that very moment, sat peacefully in front of the fire. It takes a few moments for Remus to catch up to their discussion – potions homework – which they happen to be unreasonably enthusiastic about. Well, maybe not James. James mostly seems pissed off that Sirius finished his essay before the class was over, and won’t reveal his secret. The fact that Sirius is just That Smart is not much of a secret at all, but James is still convinced there is a trick behind it.

Sirius sits beside Remus on the couch, throwing his feet into Remus’ lap.

“James, it’s not my fault you were dropped on your head as a child.”

“As if you weren’t?” James snorts back.

“Bold of you to assume I was held,” Sirius laughs.

James sticks his tongue out and puts his books and parchment on the floor next to Peter.

Sirius attention turns to Remus, reaching for the book he is reading. Their fingers brush and Remus has to hold his breath, because Sirius’ skin is burning.

An explanation to this comes a second later. “You’re freezing!” Sirius exclaims.

Remus shrugs. He is always cold.

Sirius rolls his eyes and gets up. “You’re hopeless.” He runs up the stairs and returns a minute later with Remus’ favourite sweater in hand.

Sirius ends up with his head resting on Remus’ thigh, eyes closed and back in the endless debate with James concerning Sirius’ impeccable grades. Holding his book in one hand, Remus absently runs his fingers through Sirius’ hair. It happens to be his favourite thing in the world because no one, _no one_ , touches Sirius’ hair and gets away with it. For some reason though, Sirius doesn’t seem to mind when Remus touches him.

He stops for a moment to turn the page, blindly reaches for soft hair, and smiles as he takes a moment to listen as James’ theories grow more and more ridiculous.

**December 7 th 1974**

James seems to take the Death Eaters’ attacks hardest. Or “bombings”, as the muggle news call them. His owl drops off _The Prophet_ , and James only casts one look at the front page before he gets up and leaves the great hall.

Remus and Peter sigh in unison as Sirius grabs the paper.

“Where was it this time?” Remus asks. He watches Sirius read and how his frown grows deeper and deeper.

“Central London,” he mutters. “Last night. Three wizards dead and two injured. Nine muggles injured.”

“Do they know who did it?” Peter asks. Sirius snorts at him.

“Certainly wasn’t Dumbledore, at least. Merlin, Peter, any braincells left underneath that thick hair?” If Remus sat closer he might have hit him, now he settles for kicking his shin underneath the table.

“Bugger off!” Sirius barks.

“That was unnecessary,” Remus says calmly.

“Peter’s face is unnecessary!”

“Sirius!”

Remus has never said the name with so much anger before. He can tell that Sirius is stalled by it, he flinches and clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say anything. He just leaves.

Remus has to fight the urge to follow him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says.

“No it’s not. He is rude to you without reason.”

“He’s always like that. He’s just stressed out,” Peter smiles, trying to brush it off. It breaks Remus’ heart to see him smile like this.

“That’s no excuse to talk to you that way. You are our friend.” Remus gives Peter a hard look, as if daring him to disagree.

“Thanks, Remus,” Peter whispers. They finish their breakfast in silence with both James and Sirius gone, and Remus wishes that it was a calm and blissful silence but mostly it is heavy with their friends’ absence.

“I’m going to try to find him,” Remus says as they leave for the common room. Peter doesn’t need to ask who he is referring to.

“Right. I’ll take James.”

They split up, Peter continuing to the common room while Remus heads outside to the courtyard, then past the greenhouses and to the lake. The air is raw and cold, leaving a chill deep in Remus’ bones as he walks across the grounds. He finds Sirius kneeling on the beach, hands shoved into the water and a blank expression on his face, and it breaks his heart because 15-year-old boys should not have to carry the world on their shoulders and still pretend to be carefree the majority of the time.

“Peter alright?” Sirius asks quietly. Remus sits on his heels next to him, looking out across the lake.

“He doesn’t care, but he should.”

“I know, I’m an ass and a waste of space, just say it and get it over with.”

Remus really wants to, but he won’t. Because right now they are, for once, being completely serious, and although it is tempting it is also not true.

“What’s wrong with your hands?” he asks instead. Sirius’ fingers are bright red in the freezing water. He smiles coolly and picks at a hangnail, but does not acknowledge Remus’ question.

“When I turn into the dog, everything becomes kind of…numb. Like I’m watching from a distance. And my feelings, they…well…” He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. “It’s easier.”

“I read about it. An Animagus’ emotions are not as complex when in their animal form. I suppose it is because animals’ brains are not as evolved as ours. One could discuss whether your form or Peter’s or James’ has the highest capacity for thinking, seeing as you are all mammals but surely on different intelligence levels. In my opinion you-“

Remus cuts himself off when his gaze travels to Sirius and finds that he is smiling.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Sirius grins. “I like listening to you explaining things.”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Remus mutters.

Sirius’ grin vanishes in an instant and his jaw clenches. “I’m not. Honestly.”

They are quiet for a while, Sirius’ hands still submerged in the water, visibly shaking. Remus is more than slightly worried about him because the water must be freezing cold and Sirius doesn’t even seem to notice.

“It’s all the attacks, Remus. I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s a war going on out there and here we are, worrying about O.W.L.’s. We should be getting ready.”

“We’re just kids, mate. Voldemort would kill us in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t say his name,” Sirius says sharply. His reaction surprises Remus, because out of the four of them he reckoned that Sirius would be most used to hearing the name.

Sirius looks at him as if he can read his mind. “You think you get it, but you _don’t_. You have no idea what he’s like.”

Remus breaks the eye-contact. As terrifying as it is to admit it, he supposes that Sirius is right. He really doesn’t have a clue what is waiting for them.

“Come on,” he says at last. “Let’s go inside before you get frostbite and have to amputate your hands.”

Sirius exhales heavily. “Madam Pomfrey could fix it.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Remus stands and offers a hand to Sirius. He takes it. For once, Remus is the warm one.


	9. The Codenames

**December 14 th 1974**

Sirius can’t find a comfortable position to sleep in. He’s been at it for hours now, flipping from one side to the other, to his back, to his stomach and back to the side again. A soft but constant tickling sensation passes through his legs and he has a feeling of unease in his chest.

There is really no point in trying to sleep when he is like this and he knows it. He considers getting into James’ bed, just because he knows that James won’t mind, but he always hates risking to wake him.

Quietly he wraps the blankets around his body, sneaks out of the room barefoot and down the stairs. The fire is nothing but an ember glow at this point, but it casts the common room in a soft orange light. As Sirius steps around the couch in front of the fireplace he is, for the second time, surprised to see Lily Evans lying there. Her eyes open and she frowns at him.

“You,” she says. It’s more of an accusation than anything else, but it makes Sirius smile.

“Maybe we should have a schedule of some kind to prevent this from happening.”

Lily actually laughs at that, which of course makes Sirius extremely pleased. “Blimey, Evans, didn’t know you had that in you! Too bad no one was around to hear it.”

“Would you shut up? And come here, I don’t mind the company.”

“You must truly be lonely if you don’t mind _my_ company.”

“Desperate times,” Lily sighs. Sirius joins her on the floor. His legs are still tingling slightly, so he flexes them a few times with no improvement.

“Tell me, why do you hate us so much?” Sirius asks.

She doesn’t answer right away. At last, she says, “I don’t.”

Sirius snorts.

“I really don’t,” she insists. “I just dislike the way you do things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffs.

“Black, if you are giving me attitude right now I swear to God I will _end_ you.”

Sirius believes her. “Sorry. Honestly.” He clears his throat and makes sure to use his Polite Voice. “Would you care to explain?”

He can _hear_ her roll her eyes, but she replies, all in one breath. “You walk around this school like you own the place, like you’re the smartest wizards who have ever existed. You expect everyone to love you for it, and if they don’t, you punish them.”

“No we don’t!”

“What about Severus?”

“Snivellus?” Sirius barks. “Are you seriously defending Snape? He’s as close to a death eater as they get.”

“You don’t know him, that’s all.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to know him. He’s a-“

Lily interrupts. “Got it, Sirius. You don’t like him.”

Sirius snorts. “I don’t get why _you_ like him. His lot don’t exactly approve of muggleborns.”

At this Lily sighs, and Sirius gets the feeling that she wants to agree but also wants to remain loyal to her friend. That, he can understand.

They lie in silence for a while. Sirius’ whole body is restless, filled with emotions he desperately wants to escape from, but turning into the dog and revealing that he is an illegal animagi might be pushing Lily’s microscopical amount of trust for him. Instead he focuses on breathing, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

“What do you think of it?” Lily whispers after a while.

Sirius blinks his eyes open. “Think of what?”

There’s a slight pause. “Me being a muggleborn.”

“Oh,” Sirius says. “Never thought much of it.”

“But you’re a…I mean…Your family…“

“I am _not_ my family,” Sirius snaps. He can see Lily flinch at his voice. He can’t find it in himself to apologize. “And _he_ doesn’t actually care what you are, if you’re not on his side, you’re the enemy.”

Lily seems to almost glow before his eyes, hair a fierce red in the dark room. “We’ll beat him, Sirius. I just know it. We won’t let him win.”

Sirius somehow grows even more fond of her.

**January 9 th 1975**

One of Remus’ and Peter’s favourite things to do is introduce muggle candy to their pure-blooded friends, and now that they have been home during Christmas they have both filled their trunks to their bursting point. Remus is grateful to his mother for giving him a large stash of chocolate. Which he will not be sharing with his friends. At least not all of it.

Tonight is marshmallow night. The common room fire is crackling happily and there are some students milling about, but the seats by the fire, _their_ seats, are free.

Peter kneels by the fire while Remus takes his armchair. James and Sirius sit on the couch, Sirius’ feet in James’ lap, draped dramatically over the armrest. Remus doesn’t miss the two third-year girls who walk by Sirius and stare at him quite openly, but no one else seems to notice. Certainly not Sirius.

“So, what’s this again?” Sirius says.

“Marshmallows,” Peter repeats for the seventh time. He puts two marshmallows on the end of a fire poker and holds it over the fire. Remus chuckles at how it peaks James’ interest.

“And you have to cook it first?”

“You can eat them raw. But roasted is much better,” Peter explains.

Remus grabs one from the plastic bag and takes a bite. Chews, and swallows. He shakes his head. “Definitely better cooked.”

“Oi, give me one!” Sirius says, holding his hand out. Remus obeys. Sirius chews it with a frown, licking his lips.

“Well?” James says. He crosses his legs underneath him, Sirius’ feet entangled in the mess of limbs.

“Well, it doesn’t taste much of anything, does it?” Sirius says.

Peter smiles. “Not raw it doesn’t. Here, take one each.” He swings the fire-poker around to the couch, two golden brown marshmallows at the end. James and Sirius carefully take one each.

“Does it do anything?” James asks.

“Explode in your mouth?” Sirius continues. They both eye the candy sceptically.

“It’s muggle candy,” Remus says with a sigh. “So, no. It won’t magically come to life once you chew on it. There are no dragons hidden inside. Promise.”

James and Sirius exchange a look, shrug, and wolf down the sticky mess.

“Yeah,” Sirius mumbles while chewing. “That’s loads better.”

Peter stays on roasting-duty, sharing the marshmallows between the four of them. At some point James grabs the plastic bag and grabs a handful of marshmallows.

“I bet I can fit ten marshmallows in my mouth,” he says.

Remus sighs unhappily. “I bet you will asphyxiate before that happens.”

Sirius has no such worries. “I bet fifteen.”

**January 22 nd 1975**

After one perfectly executed prank that has not yet been discovered by the staff or the prefects, the Marauders make sure to get as far away from the crime scene as possible. Unfortunately, they make the mistake of running down the corridor past the Transfiguration classroom.

McGonagall’s head suddenly darts out of her classroom, making the four Marauders stop dead in their tracks. She sniffs the air and shoots piercing looks at the boys.

“What have you done this time?” she asks, exasperated.

“What? We didn’t even-“ James tries, but is interrupted.

“I know that smell. What are you up to?”

“Honestly, professor, would we lie to you?” Sirius continues. 

Suddenly there’s a loud explosion and the four boys try to keep their faces neutral.

“Except for that,” Remus says.

A second explosion, and Peter grins. “And that.”

They hold their breaths for three seconds before they bolt down the corridor, McGonagall yelling after them, “POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN! PETTIGREW! COME BACK HERE!” 

**February 27 th 1975**

“We should work on those codenames,” Peter says out of the blue. It’s the night after the full moon, Remus is a bit sore but in an exceptionally good mood. The four boys are scattered on and around their beds, blankets every place except where they are supposed to be.

“Codenames?” Remus repeats, on his back on Sirius’ bed, head hanging off the edge so he currently sees the rest of the room upside down. In his opinion, an improvement.

“Yes!” James exclaims. Remus can’t see him, but then his feet come into view. He sits down in front of the heater, a blanket wrapped around him like a toga. Remus snorts a laugh at the sight.

“Like what? Agent 007?” he sneers.

“007?” James says. “What’s that?”

“Never mind.”

“Something cool,” Peter says. “Like… _Brutus_.”

“What in the blooming heaven is that?”

“I agree, Peter, we need something more codename-y,” James says wisely. Sirius throws a pillow at his head.

“How about antler-head for this articulate fellow?” Sirius laughs.

“Fine, then you can be Snuffles,” James retorts.

Remus grins. “James, you could be Bambi.”

Only Peter gets the reference. “That’ll make Sirius the Tramp.”

“Oi, who are you calling a tramp?”

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius, it’s a movie,” Remus laughs.

James spreads his hands like a visionary. “How about Rabies and Moonlight for the two of you?”

“That sounds absolutely ridiculous.”

Sirius, however, seems to approve. “Moonlight. Moony. It’s perfect.”

Even Peter nods. “Moony. It’s good.”

“Of course it’s good, I came up with it,” Sirius says with a spectacular eye-roll. “James can be Trotter, with the way you run.”

“I think the correct term for a deer’s running gait is ‘pronking’,” Remus adds helpfully.

“Hear that?” Sirius says. “Pronking. Pronks.”

“Or we’ll just call him Prongs.”

“Like the prongs on a fork!” Peter says.

“Yeah, that’s what those horns look like anyways.”

“For the last time, Sirius, they are _antlers_.”

James points at Peter, eyes squinting as he thinks. “Rodent.”

“I think I preferred Rabies,” Peter frowns.

“Cheez Whiz,” Remus adds.

Peter’s frown deepens. He tosses a pillow in Remus’ direction, but it only come halfway to its goal. “Sirius could be Fleas,” he says.

James and Remus laugh.

“Still rooting for Snuffles,” James says.

“In your dreams,” Sirius calls back. “None of you lot have been blessed with the flawless genes and brains that I carry, and it shows.”

“At least we’ve been blessed with the little thing called humility.” Remus deadpans.

Sirius flicks his hair back dramatically. “I need a majestic, gorgeous name to represent the grace that fills this body from head to toe.”

“From head to paws, you mean.”

“Shut it, Potter.”

“Pawfoot,” Remus suggests.

“Oh, so we’re going for body-parts now? How about red-tail for Peter?”

“It’s not red though, is it?”

“Sure it is. Looks like one of those worms.”

“Wormtail, that’s it!” James laughs. “That’s it! Wormtail, Prongs…What was yours, Remus?”

“Moony.”

“Right. Wormtail, Prongs, Moony and Padfoot.”

“ _Pawfoot_.”

“Too late. It’s Padfoot now.”

To no one’s surprise (besides Remus), the names stick.

**April 23 rd 1975**

After a long and strenuous day, Sirius heads straight to his hidden stash of chocolate. Hidden because chocolate is never safe around Remus. He is completely and utterly wrecked when he realizes that it’s gone. And he knows just who to blame.

“REMUS LUPIN!” he shouts from the top of the stairs. Every head in the common room turns to him, thankfully including the one belonging to the name he just shouted.

“YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME”

“What in the fucking hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, I think you know! Chocolate-cravings got a bit too bad, eh?”

“Padfoot. It’s. Just. Chocolate.”

“Which I have saved for emergencies like this!”

“What emergency?”

“A SUGAR EMERGENCY.” 

**May 11 th 1975**

Sirius and Remus are moments away from performing a ridiculously un-planned but well-intentioned prank, namely poking holes in all the ear-muffs in the greenhouse just moments before the second-years first encounter with mandrake babies, when Lily walks by. Her eyes burn into Sirius and he instinctively hides behind Remus.

“James! Peter! You were supposed to be look-outs!” he shouts as Lily draws nearer. James’ head appears from around the corner.

“Oh. Didn’t see her.”

“What are you doing?” Lily says sharply.

“Nothing!” Sirius replies quickly, too quickly. Remus’ shoulders shake with laughter.

“Well, stop! I’ll tell professor McGonagall and make sure the rest of the Gryffindors know who to blame when we lose all our points.”

“We’re already in last place,” Peter says from behind James.

“Not helping, Wormtail!”

Lily keeps her eyes on Sirius. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“Prongs, your girlfriend won’t let us have any fun!”

“I’m not his girlfriend!”

“THEN WHY DO WE DO WHAT YOU SAY!”

**September 1 st 1975**

Remus, being Remus, doesn’t tell them. Not until they’re on the train and he joins them half-way through the journey.

James looks pissed, hands on his hips like a scolding parent. “And where have you been?”

“I-“

Peter interrupts with a gasp. “He’s a prefect!”

“What?” James and Sirius shout in unison. Peter points at Remus’ robes, where the Prefect-pin sits neatly. Sirius runs up to him and puts his nose up to the pin to see it better. James looks as though he’s been deeply betrayed.

“A _prefect_?”

“Of course he’s a bloody prefect, who else were they going to pick?” Sirius laughs. He straightens up and smiles at Remus.

“I mean, we all thought it’d be Shacklebolt, right?” James continues. Remus is quite amused by their reactions. He pushes past Sirius and takes a seat by the window, grabbing a lonely chocolate frog from the little table.

“A prefect,” James sighs, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it.

“You are all missing the best point,” Peter says suddenly. Hope is lit in James’ eyes. “With Moony as prefect, we can get away with anything.”

Remus groans deeply. “Peter, no.”

James and Sirius’ faces turn from devastated to looking like two kids on Christmas.

“YES!”

**Christmas 1975**

James walks as quickly as he can without risking to slip on the ice. He greets Tom the Barkeeper with a wave as he walks through the Leaky Cauldron and out the back.

Diagon Alley welcomes him with more snow and more ice, and he has to slow down and push his way through the hundreds of wizards and witches that are Christmas shopping. He casts a longing look at the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop, but it’ll have to wait.

Just as promised, Sirius waits for him outside Gambol and Japes Wizarding Jokes shop. They hug quickly and step inside, both eager to get out of the cold. There is an unfamiliar smell surrounding Sirius, but James quickly forgets about it as they start scouring the shop for things to bring back to Hogwarts.

“Oi, look at this.” Sirius holds up a fake wand, flicks it, and they laugh as it explodes with a snap.

They end up spending quite a while in there, buying way more than they can carry but somehow they manage anyways. Soon they are back on the street, heading back to James’ house to eat, chatting about quidditch and Lily, everything and nothing.

James stops talking abruptly when Sirius pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one up and takes a long drag.

“So that was that smell I felt earlier,” James says.

Sirius waves the cigarette around offhandedly. “Want one?”

James knows he doesn’t need to answer that. He says, “Why?”

Sirius shrugs. “Why not?” He takes another long drag, exhaling the smoke straight up.

“You don’t have to defend yourself from me, you know that, right?” James says.

The cigarette balances precariously between Sirius’ lips. He throws an arm around James’ shoulders and they keep walking.


	10. The Bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's to hoping you will like this chapter, because if I may say so myself, I really, really do. Leave a comment and tell me what you think!

**February 14 th 1976**

Valentine’s day is spent in Hogsmeade, and despite his best efforts, James is there without Lily by his side. He does spot her alone outside The Three Broomsticks, and decides to give it one last go.

“Evans,” he says, smirk turned up to 11.

“Potter,” she says shortly. Speaking when spoken to. That’s a first.

“What’s someone like you doing at a place like this all alone?”

She glares at him. “Waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, don’t tell me. You were stood up.”

The glare hardens.

“Hey, happens to the best of us. I should know.”

“Shut up,” she snaps.

“Seems a shame to be outside on a day like this when there are cosy booths just behind that door. What do you say we-“

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence. Lily bends down and is up again in a split second, and in the next James’ face is buried in snow. It gets behind his glasses and under his scarf and coat and it is _cold_.

When he can clear the snow enough to see again, Lily’s red hair escapes through the door of the café, followed by a familiar, oily-headed snake.

The rest of the snow vaporizes from James’ burning cheeks.

**February 18 th 1976**

James dips his quill in ink and taps the excess off on the edge of the container. He is working as hard as he can and faster than ever, and still Sirius is sitting across from him balancing his wand on his palm, having finished ages ago. James sighs and returns to his work, because what he wants to do is finish so he and Sirius can try out the fake wands they bought on Christmas break. He tries to remember if the Great Goblin Rebellion took place before or after the Giant wars. Probably before.

”Remus is really oblivious, isn’t he?” Sirius says suddenly.

”Huh?”

”Look at Olena and Belle. They’re obviously flirting with him.”

James looks up. Olena and Belle sit on the other end of the common room, clearly looking at Remus by the fire. ”They’re just watching him.”

”Look at them! They’re dying for him to look at them!” Sirius insists.

James considers the girls. And sees Olena whisper something in Belle’s ear, leading to the two of them bursting into giggles. ”Blimey, you’re right. Poor Remus will never know.”

”He doesn’t understand how flirting works.”

”I wonder just how far one would have to go to make him understand.”

Sirius grins. ”Is that a challenge?”

James bites the insides of his cheeks to suppress a smile. ”Tell you what, you get Remus to understand he is being flirted with in, say, two months, and I’ll do your homework for a week.”

”I can do it in one month, mate.”

Of course, Sirius doesn’t go about it the way James had predicted. Sirius apparently decides that he is the one doing the flirting, which proves to be quite amusing. James makes sure to document every try where he is within hearing range.

The result is as disappointing as it is entertaining.

**February 19 th 1976**

_The common room_

Sirius: ”Remus, may I ask you something?”

Remus: ”Sure.”

Sirius: ”Are you a pumpkin pie? Cause I’d like a piece of that.”

Remus: ”If you want pie you should go to the kitchens.”

**February 21 st 1976**

_Breakfast, the great hall_

Sirius: ”Wow, when God made you he was showing off.”

Remus, not looking up from the newspaper: ”Humans weren’t created by god, we have evolved from a species of monkey.”

**February 24 th 1976**

_On the way to herbology_

Sirius: ”If I were a cat I’d want to spend all 9 lives with you.”

Remus: ”Your animagus is a dog.”

**March 1 st 1976**

_Lunch, the great hall_

Sirius: ”If you were a fruit you’d be a fineapple.”

Remus: ”What’s a fineapple?”

**March 2 nd 1976**

_Dinner, the great hall_

Sirius: ”Roses are red, violets are blue, how would you like it if I came home with you?”

Remus: ”Sirius, we both live here.”

**March 3 rd 1976**

_Library, “studying”_

Sirius: ”If I could rearrange the alphabet I would put U and I together.”

Remus: ”Why would you do that?”

Sirius: ”...er...because...U...and I...?”

Remus: ”That makes no sense at all.”

**March 4 th 1976**

_In the owlery_

Sirius: ”Your hand looks heavy, would you like me to hold it for you?”

Remus: ”I’m stronger than I look.”

Sirius: ”...Remus, you can’t even open a bottle of ink.”

Remus: _offended frown_

**March 5 th 1976**

_Breakfast, the great hall_

Sirius: ”If you were a vegetable you’d be a cutecumber.”

Remus: ”What the fuck is a cutecumber?”

**March 6 th 1976**

_Hogsmeade_

Sirius: ”Your lips look so lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”

Remus: ”Lips can’t feel loneliness, Sirius.”

**March 7 th 1976**

_Walking to transfiguration class_

Sirius: ”Hey, you’re pretty and I’m cute. Together we’d be pretty cute.”

Remus: _confused frown_

**March 10 th 1976**

_Breakfast, the great hall_

Sirius: ”There’s only one thing I would change about you.”

Remus: ”Uh-huh?”

Sirius: ”Your last name.”

Remus, with a frown: ”You don’t like my last name?”

**March 10 th 1976**

_Potions class_

Sirius: ”I was wondering if you had an extra heart? Mine appears to have been stolen.”

Remus: ”For the last time, Sirius, you can’t remove your heart from your chest. It is a myth. You will die.”

**March 12 th 1976**

_Common room and maybe too much firewhiskey and talking about going on dates_

Remus: ”I wouldn’t even date me.”

Sirius: ”You must have impossibly high standards then.”

Remus: “Not really. I’m just not very pleasant company.”

_Later on the same night. Sirius may or may not have been talking about his particularly remarkable hair._

Remus: ”Yeah, well you have the hair. I, on the other hand, have the appeal of a cauldron.”

Sirius: ”Mate, I don’t know anyone who didn’t go to potions class and said ”fuck me”.”

Remus, looking very concerned: ”Sirius, if you have trouble with potions I can help you.”

**March 13 th 1976**

_Boys’ dorm, late night/early morning_

Sirius: ”I’d like someone to write a list of all the things they love about me.”

Remus: ”My list would be the shortest in the world.”

Sirius: ”Yes because all it’d say is ”everything”.”

Remus: ”It is quite unlikely to love everything about a person. There are always sides to someone you don’t like. You smoking, for instance.”

**March 14 th 1976**

_Sirius’ last attempt, close to midnight, the common room_

Sirius: ”Do you know what this shirt is made of?”

Remus, not looking up from his book: ”Wool.”

Sirius, with a sigh: ”Boyfriend material. You’re supposed to say boyfriend material.”

Remus: ”You’re single.”

Sirius: ”That’s my POINT.”

Remus, finally looking up from his book: “Oh. What about Marlene?”

Sirius: ”Marlene? What about her?”

Remus: ”She likes you. You like her.”

Sirius, shaking his head: ”Good idea, Remus.”

Sirius has no choice but to consider himself beaten.

**Easter 1976**

Remus returns from the hospital wing pale and hollow and he barely says a word all day. Today happens to be Easter Friday, and Sirius watches Remus closely at dinner instead of eating. His chin is resting on his hand, literally staring at Remus, who doesn’t notice the attention he is getting.

“That’s it, you and I are going on an adventure,” Sirius says without warning. It takes Remus a few moments to understand that Sirius is talking to him, after which he gives both James and Peter confused glances. The two other boys only reply by shrugging.

“What are you talking about?” Remus wonders at last. He sounds tired.

“You and me. Tomorrow. We’re going to see some pretty trees or something. Get your mind off your furry little problem.”

The next morning they sneak out of the castle, find the train tracks and follow them north. Sirius is quite surprised that Remus agreed to go, but he has learned to read his friend’s signals by now and he could tell that he needed a break. Something completely different from Hogwarts’ grounds.

They reach a train station and wait for the next train, buy tickets with muggle money and go all the way to a town called Suilven, where Sirius finds a map of the surroundings and picks a trail. It turns out to be quite a hike, 10 kilometres to the top, but they’re young and strong and with every step Remus seems to regain some of his lost energy.

The climb to the top almost breaks even Sirius’ spirit, but eventually they reach it. It’s not until they’re at the top that Sirius realizes that this is probably the first non-magical activity that he has performed in his entire life. He loves it.

“It’s beautiful.” Remus exhales softly and looks out at the view. Sirius mumbles his agreement while catching his breath, then he starts walking around the little plateau to take in every inch of the view around them.

Remus stands serenely with his eyes closed against the bright sun and wind tugging at his hair and his clothes, while Sirius leaps around like the over-excited dog he really is. He can’t get enough of the view. It’s extraordinary and magnificent and Sirius turns to see Remus wearing the tiniest smile upon his lips, and suddenly it hits him. He just _knows_.

“Oh shit,” he curses, instantly covering his mouth with his hand. Remus’ eyes open, amused as ever at Sirius’ never-ending dramatics. The life is back in his eyes and his cheeks have gotten some colour from the sun, and he has never looked more alive than in this moment.

“What?” Remus calls, voice lost in the wind.

“Fuck,” Sirius says, marches up to Remus, grabs his confused and pretty face and kisses him.


	11. The scars and the smoking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Wihuu! If you haven't noticed already, I am a sucker for Sirius/Remus, Wolfstar, whatever you want to call it. Let me live in this world where it happened for real, alright?

**April 24 th 1976**

Sirius can’t stop thinking about the kiss. He has been flirting non-stop with Remus for the past month, thanks to his bet with James, and sure, he has always been very fond of Remus, but his feelings now?

His feelings hit him in the face like an unforgivable curse and now there is nothing he can do to get rid of them.

They haven’t really spoken in a few days now, Remus suddenly extremely busy with homework every time Sirius enters a room, and Sirius avoiding him as best as he can. But he can’t avoid it forever. Just looking at Remus makes something ache inside him and there is no getting away from it.

So he grabs Remus’ jumper from the floor, dumps it on top of all his books and parchment and tells him that they are going for a walk. And Remus follows, no questions asked.

Once outside it gets a little easier to breathe. They head to the lake without having to think about it, sunset turning the world bright orange.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” Sirius admits at last.

“That’s a first,” Remus says quietly. Sirius snorts. He can’t bring himself to look at Remus, let alone talk to him. He’s afraid of what he might say if he does.

“Look, I’m not an idiot,” Remus says suddenly. “I know you’ve been flirting with me all month. I just figured you were goofing around, as per usual.”

“Bit of both,” Sirius says. He dares a look at Remus, and regrets it instantly. There is so much warmth and happiness and sorrow radiating from him that it takes Sirius’ breath away. He steps closer and closer until their foreheads meet, and Remus doesn’t back away. For a moment everything feels _right_.

Then Remus whispers, “I can’t.”

“Can’t or don’t want to?” Sirius bites, not angry as much as desperate.

Remus pulls away only to cradle Sirius’ head in his hands, stroking back a wild strand of hair. He smiles and it’s all Sirius can see. “I want to, believe me, I do. But people won’t like it.”

“Fuck people,” Sirius says. Definitely angry now.

“Will you allow me to be selfish for a moment?” Remus says with a small sigh. Sirius nods. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Yes, I’m _aware_ ,” Sirius interrupts, he can’t help himself. Remus smirks.

“People are going to be afraid of me for the rest of my life. Exclude me. I’ll have a hard time keeping jobs. Friends. No one wants to be associated with someone like me.”

“Fuck people,” Sirius repeats. “You’ve got me, and James, and Peter. We’ll always be by your side.”

“As much as I appreciate your loyalty, it won’t be enough and you know it.”

Sirius snarls, tearing himself from Remus’ gentle touch. “So you won’t be with me because you’re a werewolf? Is that it? You’re going to keep to yourself for the rest of your life?”

Remus is still smiling softly and it’s infuriating, because he is talking about a lifetime of self-punishment and smiling as if he has already given up.

“Being a werewolf is bad enough, Sirius. I can’t have people hating me because I like men.”

And suddenly, Sirius understands. He doesn’t agree with it, not even a little bit, but he understands. Remus must have seen the resignation in him, he throws an arm around his shoulders and knocks their heads together and Sirius hates that they have to be afraid of this.

“So, what does this mean for us?” Sirius says. Remus’ arm tightens around him.

“You know what this means, Padfoot. But you are still my best friend, and I’d like to keep it that way. If it’s alright with you.”

Sirius nestles his head into the crook of Remus’ neck. Breathes him in. “Anything you want. As long as I don’t lose you.”

**June 5 th 1976**

Seeing as the train home is leaving tomorrow, James thought they would be safe from detention.

He was wrong.

He’s not even sorry that the rest of his friends were blamed too, he’s just raging that they were caught.

McGonagall has him cleaning out professor Limesack’s office alone under her supervision. He does it quietly, maybe throwing books into trunks with a little more force than necessary, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Potter, would you tell me what happened?”

A copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ hits the floor of the trunk with a bang.

“You know what happened. Snivellus told you.”

“He told me, accompanied by some rather imaginative adjectives.”

“So, you know.”

McGonagall sniffs. “I believe there is a reason behind your actions.”

“Reason?” James dumps a pile of books into the trunk. “He’s a bloody Death Eater, that’s why!”

“Potter.”

“He hexed me too!”

“ _Potter_.”

“And he called her a mudblood!”

McGonagall arches an eyebrow. “Called who a mudblood?”

“Evans. Lily.”

McGonagall’s lips press into a thin line.

“Finish cleaning up in here. And for Merlin’s sake, Potter, don’t hex other students. You are better than that.”

She leaves without another word.

**July 7 th 1976**

Sirius spends as much time away from home as he can. He does his best to take Regulus with him, but most days his little brother opts to stay at home with the family. Why, Sirius can’t understand.

He’s strolling aimlessly through Hyde Park when he spots a familiar figure up ahead. A little ragged and a little rough, as always days before a full moon.

“How’d you know where I was, Moony?” Sirius calls as he approaches him.

Remus smirks. “Your brother told me where I might find you.”

Sirius does a double take. “You went to my house?”

“Regrettably, yes. I was lucky that Regulus answered the door.”

Sirius shakes his head with a laugh. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it by snapping his fingers.

Remus gives him a stern look. Sirius shrugs it off and welcomes the sweet hit of nicotine, body relaxing instantly. He eyes Remus curiously, wondering if there is a reason behind this visit, seeing as the full moon is only days away and the fact that Remus rarely leaves his home.

It appears that he is not getting any answers unless he asks for it, so Sirius says, “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but what are you doing here? I’ve had to drag your furry arse out of bed just to see you, and now you are here willingly?”

Remus exhales heavily with a smile. “I thought we could hang out.”

“Four days before the full moon?”

“Fine. I got you a present.”

That takes Sirius by surprise. He stays half-stunned staring openly at Remus, who rolls his eyes and gives in, pulling out a white envelope from inside his jacket. Sirius takes it cautiously.

“Is this a trick? You’ve hidden a howler in here, haven’t you?”

“Just fucking open it.”

Sirius obeys. He pulls out two pieces of shiny paper with words that he assumes is English, but which make no sense to him. Today’s date is on them, and a time: seven pm.

“What happens at seven?”

“It’s concert tickets for a muggle band called AC/DC.”

Sirius scrunches his nose. “A muggle band?”

“I think you’d like them.”

“I don’t know, mate. You want us to hang out with muggles?”

Remus rolls his eyes and takes the tickets back. “Fine, if you don’t want to go, I’ll find someone else-“

“Hey!” Sirius snaps. “I didn’t say I don’t want to go.” He reaches for the tickets, Remus holding them high above his head with a smirk.

“What’s that? You want to go?”

Sirius does everything apart from climbing Remus’ tall legs to reach the tickets. In the end, he gives up. “How about something to eat first?”

“You know me so well.”

They leave the park side by side, as happy as only two teenagers can be in the middle of summer.

**July 12 th 1976**

Remus wakes up and looks at himself in the mirror. Despite his father’s healing hexes he is still sore and has that familiar _broken_ feeling in his body.

Along with three deep parallel wounds going from his left temple to just underneath his right ear.

He sighs.

Just as with the scars on his shoulder, he knows that these won’t go away, that he will, for the rest of his life, have to answer the questions on how he got the scars and ignore the frightened stares.

He meets his own tired gaze in the mirror as if that is where he will find all the answers to his problems.

**July 29 th 1976**

Sirius leans on his motorcycle, a cigarette bouncing to and from his mouth. Remus has disapproved of the smoking since Sirius first started it, but then again, Remus disapproves of pretty much everything that makes up Sirius’ personality so maybe he should not mind too much.

He takes a few more drags of the cigarette before he puts it out. On his thigh. No concept at all of the inappropriate act of self-inflicted pain. As Remus approaches he looks up, smile quickly turning into an ugly grimace. Remus wonders why and overanalyses it and suddenly he’s standing right next to Sirius and neither of them have said a word.

Then he remembers the gashes across his face and thinks that maybe Sirius has a reason to be surprised.

“I was never much of a looker anyways,” Remus mumbles. Sirius scoffs in a very condescending way.

“I think you’re smokin’ as always.”

“Speaking of smoking.” Remus nods towards the black scorch mark on Sirius’ jeans. Sirius waves it off and brings up a new cigarette, because he can’t resist pushing the limits, not even with Remus.

“It’s all part of the look, Moony.”

“Never mind if it kills you?”

There is a dangerous glint in his eye when he replies. “What if that’s the point, mate?” They fall silent at that and Remus hears the war like a whistle at the back of his mind. _What if that’s the point_. Death by something, _anything_ , other than a curse from a death eater’s wand.

“Do you ever think about it?” Sirius asks.

“What?”

“Think about dying?”

“Every month since I was four years old,” he says.

A sharp inhale is Sirius’ only reaction. Remus wants to thank him for not making a big deal out of it.

“I wonder what I’d prefer, you know? _Avada kedavra_ or jump of a cliff or something.”

Remus means to say, “I’d rather you didn’t die at all”. Instead, he says something completely different.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t mean to. He’s not even sure the thought has ever crossed his mind before. But Sirius talks about death like it’s coming for him any second, and Remus can’t let him die without knowing.

“I love you too, you fucking idiot,” Sirius laughs, and brings him into a bone-breaking hug. Kisses the top of his head, then his forehead, then his mouth. He makes no big deal out of it, because Sirius Black may be a drama queen about many things, but not personal space and displays of affection.

It’s no more than just a quick peck, but as Sirius pulls back to lean on the motorcycle his eyes linger on Remus’ lips.

Remus wants him. So bad. But they’ve had this conversation before, one too many times.

“I wish…” he says quietly. He never gets around to finishing that statement, but he doesn’t need to. Sirius smiles sadly.

“Yeah, I know. Me too.”

_I wish things were different. I wish I could kiss you back. I wish we could go on a date. I wish we lived in any other universe than this particular one that we’ve been stranded in._

**Last week of August, 1976**

He gets the idea after the kiss. And because he’s thinking about stupid green eyes and stupid soft hair and stupid, stupid werewolf boys who have no business being perfect relationship-material.

It’s the full moon in three days, and Sirius won’t be there. It’s all he can think about as he wanders the streets of Knockturn alley, having nothing better to do, and then he passes the tiny little shop with moving sketches posted to the windows, and he sees it.

The moon. Phasing in and out from new to first quarter to full to third quarter. He opens the door without hesitating and sits down on the chair in the middle of the room. Explains what he wants and where he wants it.

The witch working in the magical tattoo-parlour doesn’t need to be told twice. She asks Sirius if there is a meaning behind it, and he says that it’s for a friend.

“A girlfriend?”

“Something like that,” Sirius replies with a smirk. He dreams of a future without homophobia and of marrying Remus twenty years from now.


	12. The Death Eater

**September 1 st 1976**

Remus and Peter find Sirius on Platform 9¾, looking dishevelled. He spots them in the crowd, smiles and scratches casually at his left forearm. Remus is surprised to see him without a cigarette in his hand.

“Mornin’,” Peter greets, getting a hug from Sirius as they reach him. Remus gets one too, that might just last a little longer than the one Peter got.

“Either of you seen Reggie?” Sirius asks, not even able to hide his worry anymore. Remus considers him, surprised at how on edge he is.

“Maybe he’s on the train already?” Peter says helpfully.

“You two didn’t come here together?” Remus asks.

“He hasn’t been home in a while. But I never thought he’d…” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I don’t know where he is.”

There is not really anything Peter or Remus can say to that.

**September 2 nd 1976**

Peter is the one who brings them the news, and it is received with various reactions.

“James is Gryffindor’s new Quidditch captain,” he exclaims with the widest smile, laughing as James stares at him, quite literally like a deer in headlights.

Sirius shines up and gives James a high-five.

James mostly looks dumbstruck.

Remus only looks up from his book once Sirius punches his shoulder, asks Peter to repeat himself and congratulates James before returning to his book.

“Me?” James says in the tiniest voice.

“You’ll be great!” Peter urges. James chest puffs out and he nods to himself. Peter’s encouragement was just what was needed to push him into the right mood.

“I sure will be! This year we _will_ win the house cup! I swear it! Padfoot, let’s go!”

“What?”

“We have to start planning the practices, and the try-outs, and how to beat the other teams!”

“Now?!”

“Yes, now! The first game is in less than two months and we are going to win!”

They leave, already discussing tactics and which Gryffindors would fit in the team, and Peter smiles at having brought this joy to his friends.

**September 10 th 1976**

Peter is the first through the portrait-hole on their return from transfigurations, the last class of the day, and also the first one to spot Remus by the fire. He thinks of the bar of chocolate hidden in his trunk and that he should go get it for Remus (who looks like he needs it), but then he is distracted by the piles of parchment in Remus’ lap.

“We’ve got notes for you, you don’t have study now. It’s Friday,” Peter says, claiming the armchair next to him. Sirius and James have spread out on the floor in front of the fire, their legs all tangled up in each other.

Remus smiles crookedly at Peter and smooths out the parchment.

“It’s not homework. This is something else.”

Peter scoots closer and inspects the tiny scribbles on the paper, lines and squares and strangely familiar shapes…

“Is this the common room?” he asks. Remus nods ponderingly.

“Yes. I thought I’d draw the whole school”

“Moony, that’ll take _years_.”

Peter studies the map and points at the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. “You should add the tunnel behind that statue.”

Remus tears his eyes off the map to look at Peter. “What?”

“Remember? We hid in there when Filch was looking for us once. It must’ve been in our second year.”

“That’s brilliant,” Remus says. “And the one Peeves showed us, behind that mirror on the fourth floor.”

“There’s got to be more secret tunnels, don’t you think?”

“We should find them.”

At this they fall silent and turn to Sirius and James, whose bickering slowly dies out once they realize they are being watched.

“What?” Sirius barks.

“You up for an adventure?” Remus grins.

James is on his feet in a second. “Do you even have to ask?”

**September 14 th 1976**

Sirius’ sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and Remus’ insides turn cold when he sees it. He grabs Sirius’ arm with more force than necessary and turns it around so he can see it properly. A moon. Third quarter, soon to be full. A countdown to the impending doom. 

Sirius has the audacity to throw a grin.

“What do you think? Like it?”

Remus can’t breathe. “Why would you do something like that?” he mumbles, words coming out short and harsh. Sirius’ smile fades.

“What?”

“I don’t fucking know, romanticizing my lifelong fucking curse? For aesthetics?”

“Merlin’s beard, Moony, I thought you’d like it.”

“Do I like a constant reminder of when I turn into a murderous best? What the fuck do you think?”

Sirius snaps. “It’s not just your curse, though, is it? It’s mine, and James’ and Peter’s, too.”

“Oh, thanks, that makes me feel a lot better.”

“You’re a bloody idiot, Moony, if you think this is just your problem. We’re in this together. And I don’t have to defend wanting something to remind me of the good things in this shit-show of a life.”

“And what the hell would that be?”

“You,” Sirius says. “Us. The four of us.”

Remus doesn’t know what to say to that.

**September 22 nd 1976**

Lily bites her bottom lip hard. She can see Remus a few tables over in the library, a book open in front of him. Alone.

She desperately wants to ask him, or tell him, or whatever it is that she needs to do, but she has read enough books to know that it is a bit of a sensitive subject.

There is also the little detail of having seen James, Sirius and Peter sneak out from the common room on a regular basis the last few years. And she may or may not have followed them one night. And been just a little bit surprised to see three mismatched animals running across the castle grounds instead of three boys.

She takes the seat straight across from Remus, lip still caught between her teeth.

“Remus…” she begins. He straightens up at once at the sound of her voice. Maybe the tone she speaks in says it all.

“Hello, Lily.”

“Hi. Hey. Uhm…”

They look at each other like two people who already know what is about to be said but still don’t want to hear it.

“Remus, I have to ask…”

Remus lets out all the air from his lungs. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

“I’m not an idiot, okay? I would have found out sooner or later.”

“If only it’d been later,” Remus mutters.

“Hey, at least now it’s confirmed that your mood swings aren’t just PMS.”

Remus does a little frown that just makes Lily laugh.

“Anger is cute on you.”

“Then you’ve never seen me angry.”

“Aw, look at that,” Lily takes a soft hold of his chin with two fingers. He rolls his eyes and twists his head to get her off.

“Fucking hell, Lily, you couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?”

“Sorry. Not really my thing.”

Remus shakes his head but deflates at last, looking unsure but with a sliver of hope in his eyes.

**September 29 th 1976**

“I need your help.” Sirius says it through gritted teeth, hating to ask for more than necessary from James since James offers him everything, but still he does it.

James drops whatever is in his hands and gives Sirius his unfaltering attention.

“Reggie sent an owl. He’s in Hogsmeade.”

“What? Now? Let’s go!”

They grab Peter and Remus and the invisibility cloak, and head outside. Peter and Sirius turn into their Animagus forms while Remus and James share the cloak. They are getting too tall to fit all of them under it.

Hogsmeade is dimly lit but still getting some light from the setting sun, and they start searching. It’s a slow process, trying not to be seen by anyone seeing as it is a Wednesday night and no Hogwarts students are allowed outside the castle grounds.

Eventually they find Regulus in the alley behind Honeydukes, crouched into a ball on the ground with his arms around his head. The Marauders share quiet looks, and Sirius is relieved to find his brother alive and seemingly unharmed, since he hasn’t seen him in two months. Warily Sirius approaches him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t go back,” Regulus whispers.

Sirius feels his breath catch in his throat.

“Go back where? To Hogwarts? I’m sure Dumbledore won’t mind that you missed a few weeks, we’ll just have to talk to him,” Sirius says softly.

Regulus shakes his head. “No, I mean I can’t…I _can’t_ go back.” He starts sobbing quietly.

Sirius turns helplessly to James.  
“Regulus, why can’t you go back?” James asks kindly.

“The w…the wards,” Regulus whimpers. “Dumbledore’s wards.” 

“Do you mean the protective enchantments? Around the castle?” Remus asks.

Regulus nods. A tremble passes his shoulders.

Peter says, “Don’t worry, those wards only work against…”

He trails off.

Sirius’ heart pounds in his ears.

“Oh shit,” James whispers.

Remus locks his hands behind his neck and turns away. Peter closes his eyes.

Sirius keeps his expression dangerously neutral.

“Reggie,” he says. “Look at me.”

Regulus keeps his head down.

“HEY! LOOK AT ME!” Sirius shouts, all restraint gone. He grabs a handful of Regulus’ robes and shakes him, then slams him against the wall. “Tell me you didn’t do this. TELL ME you haven’t joined the _Death Eaters_!”

Regulus starts sobbing harder than ever.

Sirius stumbles to his feet, because he has to leave, he can’t sit here and watch his baby brother cry and know that he has a dark mark on his arm, that everything has changed and that everything is his fault.

He backs away from Regulus, but Remus stops him before he can leave the alley.

“Breathe,” Remus whispers. Sirius takes a heaving breath.

“I knew he wasn’t alright. All that time he was gone, and I knew I should’ve gone looking for him.”

“You did, remember? You were out looking for him all summer. You did everything you could, Sirius.”

Sirius looks Remus dead in the eye. He shakes his head. “It wasn’t enough.”

**October 1 st 1976**

They send Regulus back to London using Floo Powder in the open fire at the Hog’s Head. Sirius had seemed reluctant to let him go. Remus suggested they go with him, but both of them know that Sirius’ little brother is better off with his Voldemort-supporting-family than at Hogwarts.

There has been an empty shadow in Sirius’ eyes all afternoon, and Remus doesn’t know how to get through to him. He does his homework on the couch by the fire while Sirius sits on the floor in front of him. Remus absently plays with a strand of Sirius’ hair while reading a chapter in _Hogwarts: A History_ for the ninth time, trying to find a good source for his essay regarding the importance of Muggle Studies.

Sirius exhales heavily and leans into Remus’ touch. Remus’ hand stills.

“I can’t believe he would do something like this. He is so _stupid_ ,” Sirius whispers.

Remus digs his fingernails into Sirius’ scalp.

“He seemed scared.”

Sirius coughs before speaking again. “Not helping, Moony.”

“I’m just saying, maybe it wasn’t entirely of his own volition.”

“Of course it wasn’t. This has my mother’s fingerprints all over it. But now it’s too late to do anything about it.”

Remus closes his eyes against the brutality in Sirius’ voice.

“He’s a smart kid, he’ll be alright.”

Sirius doesn’t seem too pacified, but at least he relaxes somewhat under Remus’ touch.

Later that night, something wakes Remus. The wind shouts around the corners of the castle. Remus makes himself comfortable underneath the covers and looks over at Sirius’ bed. The curtains are drawn but a small opening is enough for him to see a tuft of black fur.


	13. The Whomping Willow

**October 20 th 1976**

Today they are playing against Ravenclaw, and James is perhaps a little too set on winning. He bounces in his seat at breakfast, barely getting anything to eat. He may be nervous and wound up and wanting nothing more than to get out on the field, but he explodes completely when he learns that his chaser Elizabeth Wornhill is in the hospital wing.

“What? WHY?” he yells at the first year who brought him the news.

“She tripped on the stairs.”

“She TRIPPED on the STAIRS? We have a QUIDDITCH GAME in THIRTY MINUTES!”

“I’m sorry…” the first year says, clearly trying to get away. James points a finger at her and squints his eyes.

“You!”

“Yes?” she quivers.

“You tried out for the team, didn’t you?”

“I did, but I know that it’s unusual to have first years in the team, I just wanted to give it a shot, I’m sorry if I-“

“You’re taking Elizabeth’s spot.”

A silence spreads along the table. Somewhere at the back of his head, James’ feels his fellow teammates’ gazes on him. And he may be a bit desperate, but he remembers the first year’s try-out and that he was impressed.

Now she’s staring at him with her mouth agape.

“Me?”

“Yes, you! Still know how to ride a broom?”

“Uh, yes, of course.”

“Then let’s go! Annie will find you some robes and you and I’ll go through the tactics.”

“I will?” Annie says. James gives her a look and like that she’s off, leaving the rest of the team laughing.

“What’s your name?” James asks the first year.

“Lucy. Lucy Davis.”

“Well, Lucy, welcome to the team!”

They play the game and it’s magnificent. Lucy scores five goals before one of Ravenclaw’s beaters redirects a bludger straight at her face. James sees her fall to the ground, along with a collective gasp from the audience. The quaffle ends up in the hands of a Ravenclaw chaser, and there is the tell-tale _cling_ as they score.

Finn, the Gryffindor goalie, passes the ball to James who goes for Ravenclaw’s half of the field. Before he can as much as think of scoring, however, the whistle calls that the game is over and James looks up, seeing Gina’s triumphant smile with the snitch in her hand.

“WE WON!” she shouts, and the Gryffindor half of the audience lets out a deafening cheer.

Only now does James remember Lucy, and he flies to the pile of red robes on the grass. Arnold, one of the beaters, is next to her, smile wide on his face after the victory. James lands a few feet away.

“I don’t think you quite grasped the concept of avoiding the bludgers,” Arnold says with a laugh, helping Lucy up to a sitting position. Blood runs down her nose but she smiles a red smile.

“Did we win?”

“Hell yeah we won,” James grins.

“Potter!” a familiar voice snaps, and James turns around with a groan. Professor McGonagall walks towards them with determined steps.

“Potter, is that a first year?”

James instinctively steps in between Lucy and McGonagall. “Uh…”

“Wrong answer. You are well aware that we highly recommend choosing older students for the Quidditch teams, seeing as both first and second years lack the experience it takes to participate in this quite dangerous activity?”

“Well, seeing as it’s only a recommendation, I figured… Y’know Elizabeth is in the hospital wing, right?”

“And out of all the Gryffindor students at this school, you had to pick a first year?”

James goes for an innocent smile. McGonagall doesn’t buy it.

“Take her to Madame Pomfrey, _now_!”

James glances at Lucy, who cracks a smile despite her bleeding nose.

“This was the best day of my life,” she laughs.

**October 24 th 1976**

Hogwarts best way of communicating rules is through Dumbledore’s speech at the start of the year, but apparently there is something important enough for him to get to his feet tonight.

Sirius is sitting a bit too close to Remus, close enough for it to be difficult for him to focus on anything besides the heat he transmits. And so it takes a moment or two before Remus realizes that Dumbledore is even up there, talking. He misses the first half of the speech, but tunes in just in time for the best part.

“And lastly, I have an update from Madame Hooch and the Heads of all the houses. Effective immediately, no first years are allowed on the Quidditch teams.”

If Dumbledore keeps talking, no one hears it over the roar that erupts from each of the tables. Mostly high-pitched screams from first-years, but some of the older students join in as well.

Only a while later does Remus notice how James has pretty much slid down underneath the table.

“What did you do?” he asks, half laughing, half groaning.

James gives him a concerned look.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” Sirius chimes in, definitely laughing.

James shrugs and mumbles indecipherably.

Peter giggles. “Last quidditch game, Elizabeth couldn’t play, so James replaced her with a girl who was hit by a bludger and put in the hospital?”

Sirius and Remus nod. It’s not like they would’ve forgotten.

“Well, the girl was a first year.”

Sirius laugh turns a whole lot louder, and he grasps Remus’ shoulder to keep steady. Remus groans and covers his eyes with his hands.

“James, you didn’t.”

“She was the best one at try-outs! And in my defence, we did win the game. Plus she asked if she could stay on the team.”

“Well not now she certainly can’t,” Sirius squeals, enjoying it far too much.

**October 27 th 1976**

James is the one to perfect the _Homonculus_ charm. It takes weeks and weeks of trying, and more attempts than he would like to admit, but suddenly he feels it working and their extremely detailed map of every corner of Hogwarts is joined by the footprints of every resident of Hogwarts.

“Woah, he did it!” Peter exclaims. Before James can study the map closer it is pulled away from him, Sirius and Peter’s noses pressed up against the parchment.

“Bloody brilliant, Prongs,” Sirius laughs.

**October 29 th 1976**

Remus almost feels sorry for professor McGonagall when she gives them homework on the spell _Anteoculatia_ – only because he has read about it and already knows what it is.

James is the first to find it when they study in the common room that night, bursting into laughter once he does. Sirius peeks over his shoulder to read about the spell, grin spreading over his face. He looks at James. Then both their gazes turn to an unknowing Peter.

“James-“ Remus tries, but too late.

James’ wand is out and he points it at Peter. “ _Anteoculatia_ ,” he says, and suddenly Peter’s short hair has grown into two tiny antlers.

Remus is torn between his prefect duties, feeling sorry for Peter, and crying from laughter as Peter runs around the common room with antlers on his head.

**November 7 th 1976**

Ever since they found out about Regulus, Sirius has not been acting like himself. Remus has done everything in his power to get him to talk, but with no results. The only person who can coax out a smile from him is Lily, who shares her worries with Remus as often as she can.

Remus leaves for the Shrieking Shack after lunch and spends some hours looking out the window, doing his best to ignore the pain coursing through his body.

In the morning he feels a heavy loneliness weighing down on him. Madam Pomfrey fusses over him for a while when she sees that he is awake, and he is surprised at how detached he is. Almost as back when he transformed on his own.

It’s not until he returns to the common room and finds James and Peter alone that he realizes that something bad has happened.

“Where’s Sirius?”

James and Peter exchange a look.

Remus can feel his heart beating in his chest. “Where is he?”

“Look, no one’s hurt. Everyone’s fine. Can we leave it at that?” James sighs.

Apparently Peter sees the murder in Remus’ eyes, since he holds his hands up to stop the oncoming eruption. “Sirius told Snape how to get through the Whomping Willow.”

It is like a slap to his face. 

James quickly adds, “But he’s fine. Nothing happened.”

“He might have seen you,” Peter says.

“But Dumbledore’s talked to him.”

“Right. So it’s fine.”

Remus feels _used_. Betrayed. Peter and James won’t meet his eyes.

“Where. Is. He.”


	14. The Last Straw

**November 14 th 1976**

Sirius has not talked to him since it happened. If James is not mistaken, he hasn’t talked to any of them. He sees him during classes, but he always arrives seconds after they start and leaves before the end, and so James has no chance to grab him.

Remus and Peter seem content to wait it out, to wait until enough time has passed that they can all forget what went down, but James can’t. He can’t abandon his friend.

Then, finally, one Sunday morning James is awakened at some ungodly hour. He peers through his eyelashes and sees Sirius, completely dressed, leaving the room. As soon as the door shuts James jumps up, throws on a pair of jeans and a sweater, grabs his cloak and runs after him.

He follows at a respectable distance, of course, down the stairs, past the hospital, through the side entrance and out into the courtyard where Sirius suddenly stops. James approaches him warily, prepared to clear his throat or announce his presence in some other way when Sirius suddenly turns around.

The dark circles underneath his eyes tell James that he hasn’t been sleeping. He coughs into his hand.

“What?” he barks. “Come to give me another lecture? There’s no point. You might as well leave.” 

“Don’t try to push me away, Sirius. It’s not going to work.”

“I figure I haven’t been at it long enough yet.” Sirius turns again and starts to walk away, pulling out a cigarette that he lights with a snap of his fingers. James follows him.

“Just _stop it_. Stop. You made a mistake, alright?”

Sirius laughs coldly, but keeps walking. A soft stream of smoke rises from the cigarette. “If I could go back I’d do it all over again.”

James shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to Remus.”

Their breaths come out as white clouds in the cold morning, and James pulls his cloak a little tighter around his torso. Sirius is only wearing a t-shirt, nose and cheeks red and breathing heavily.

“What are you doing out here without your cloak? Or at least your jacket?”

“I don’t need it as a dog,” Sirius says offhandedly. He stops abruptly and faces James again. Opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, then closes it again. When he looks up at the sky and blinks rapidly James gets the feeling that he’s trying to hold back tears.

“Sirius, where are you going?” he asks quietly. Sirius snorts.

“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you think. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

**November 29 th 1976**

Remus hasn’t talked to Sirius in nearly a month. It’s a new record for them. One that Remus is not happy about. He sees him in classes, walking through the common room, in the great hall, but mostly he tries to pretend Sirius does not exist.

It might be cruel and selfish of him, but confronting Sirius is the last thing he wants to do. Mostly he is worried that their friendship has been broken beyond repair, and he would like to keep living in obliviousness for as long as possible.

**Christmas 1976**

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says, and James can’t bring himself to reply because-

There are bruises.

And cuts.

And his hair is dull and hangs in lumps around his face.

And he holds his left arm gingerly against his torso, cradling it with his right.

His clothes rain-drenched and his cheeks lined with tears.

He looks terrible.

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius repeats. “I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice breaks and he takes a stumbling step forwards, crashing into James who at last gets his wits about him and wraps his friend up in a hug.

“Ow, James, _ow_ ,” Sirius mumbles into his shirt, but James just holds him tighter. Inhales the heavy smell of smoke that clings to him. 

“Ma!” he shouts into the house, pulling Sirius into the warmth. The door shuts behind him with a click

“Ma, I need help!”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius repeats, sobbing and breathing raggedly and James clings to him like he’s the golden snitch and a Quidditch match was just won.

His mother comes rushing down the stairs, takes one good look at Sirius and immediately swats James’ hands away, gently coaxing Sirius onto a chair in the kitchen. James stays right behind him, a hand on his shoulder. On his head. On his back. He just needs to touch him, make sure that he doesn’t disappear right before his eyes.

“Mrs. Potter, I’m so sorry I came here, I didn’t know what to do, I should leave, I-“

“Young man, you are not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats anyways. James’ mum cleans him up and gives him a potion that he drinks without asking. Once she is done she gives James a look that tells him exactly what to do.

“C’mon, mate, let’s get some sleep.”

It’s not the first time they share a bed. Sirius lies on his back and James on his side. Neither of them go to sleep. James is too stressed out and worried to relax. He can only imagine how Sirius is feeling.

“Your ma?” James asks.

Sirius makes an affirmative noise.

“What did you do this time? Call Malfoy a sissy?”

“She told me it was time I followed Reggie’s footprints, make the family proud, start to repair the damage I did when I was put in Gryffindor.”

James snorts. He takes his glasses off and Sirius becomes a bit of a blur.

“Haven’t you two been fighting about this for months now?”

“She took me to Malfoy manor, two or three days ago. They were branding the new recruits. When I refused, well…”

He leaves the rest for James’ imagination. A part of James wishes that he hadn’t.

“I had to get out.”

“Good thing, too. Sooner or later she would’ve killed you.”

“She told me that I ought to get married. Started going on about Bella and Cissy again.”

“Ah, Bella, the psychopath of everyone’s dreams.”

Sirius is not amused.

“Well, I said I wasn’t going to marry anyone. Not unless it’s a man.”

James has to take a second, because surely Sirius isn’t implying…?

Sirius grins.

“Yeah, Prongs, I’m into boys. And girls, of course, but mostly boys. Or, well, one boy.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you, don’t worry.”

They laugh. James lies on his back.

“Want to tell me who?”

“Moony, of course. Who else?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”  
James blinks a few times and tries to focus on Sirius’ face without glasses.

“Hang on, Moony?”

“Yup.”

“You’re serious?”

“Do you really want me to reply to that?”

James falls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. Now that he thinks about it, he knew. Of course he did. Sirius’ love and affection for Remus has always been extraordinary.

“Have you talked to him about it?” James asks at last.

Sirius shakes his head. “Our feelings are mutual. It’s just…”

“What? Your parents’ muggle-phobia?”

“No, mate, it’s just bad timing. There’s a bloody war going on and Remus is a werewolf and he doesn’t need people to look at him weird because he’s a poof.”

“That sucks,” James sighs. Sirius scoffs scornfully and coughs into the crook of his arm.

“You have no idea. You’ve found your dream girl and the two of you will ride off on a hippogriff’s back into the sunset, living happily ever after. You have _no idea_ what it’s like to be us.”

James insides burn at his words, he wants to kick him out and curse at him and tell him that he’s wrong, but he can’t. Because despite being a prick about it, Sirius is right. And to his defence, he is tired and emotionally drained and perhaps has a right to be a little mean.

James doesn’t have anything to add to that, and Sirius seems tired of talking, and so they lie side by side, awake for the rest of the night.


	15. The Crush

**December 26 th 1976**

Remus takes the morning train and arrives at the Potter’s house before 10am. He is welcomed by James, hair more dishevelled than usual and glasses askew, but with a smile nonetheless.

“Moony,” he greets and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. Remus has gotten used to James’ hugs by now.

“How is he?”

James pulls a weak grin.

“He’s Padfoot, y’know. He won’t talk about it.”

James leads him to his bedroom where Sirius is propped up in bed, a blanket covering his legs. Remus takes him in, forcing his expression to remain neutral at the matte hair, bruised cheeks and the sling around his left arm.

“Did she hit you?” is Remus’ first question.

Sirius has the audacity to laugh, which makes something twist painfully in Remus’ gut.

“Mate, you’re such a fucking muggle sometimes.” When Remus doesn’t reply, he adds, “No, she didn’t hit me. She didn’t have to.”

Remus wants to ask what he means, remembers that they are wizards, and somehow grows even more quiet than before. He looks at Sirius’ black eye. The gash on his chin. The bruises on his arms. No, Mrs. Black didn’t have to hit Sirius, not when she could make him hurt himself. Inflict a pain more terrible than any human should ever have to endure. Remus’ gut tells him to grab Sirius’ hand, and for once he follows it.

He allows himself to feel, just this once.

Sirius does not object to the touch. Instead, he seems to pour all his energy into holding Remus’ hand.

James clears his throat awkwardly from where he is sitting on the chair by his desk. Sirius and Remus shoot equally burning stares at him, at which he throws his arms into the air and leaves, making sure to slam the door behind him.

“What are you going to do?” Remus asks softly, feeling as though trying to pacify a frightened animal.

“I’m leaving. This guy Alphard, my uncle, or second cousin, or whatever, he left me some money. A small fortune, to be honest. I’ll find someplace to stay by summer.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Potter wouldn’t mind if you stayed here.”

One of Sirius’ rare smiles shows up at that, the pure, unguarded kind. “No, she wouldn’t,” he says.

Remus feels more than he has in a long time, but it is not enough, and so he opens himself up to all the fear and anger and sorrow that is locked up inside him. Big, ugly tears form in his eyes and start running down his cheeks, and he presses the back of Sirius’ hand to his lips.

It is not a pretty sight. He sobs and sobs and probably shouts some profanities at Sirius, because he needs this and he knows that his friend will not be intimidated. Because Sirius will not be scared off. He knows Remus, better than anyone, better than he knows himself. And it is quite a wonderful thing, to allow yourself to be completely known by another human being.

And now Remus knows that he has forgiven Sirius for what went down with Snape before Christmas. It was a horrible, cruel thing to do, but he looks at Sirius now and knows that he regrets it. Maybe not hurting Snape, but at least he regrets betraying Remus’ trust. The most important thing they have. Trust.

Remus trusts him. He always has. He trusts that he knows that he made a mistake.

Sirius pulls him into a hug and whispers quiet words of comfort into his hair, and Remus loves him so, so much.

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius says all of a sudden. There’s no doubting what he refers to. “I was scared. And angry. Snape was unlucky to get caught in the crossfire.”

Remus untangles himself from Sirius’ embrace.

“It’s okay,” Remus says. It’s not, and they both know it. “You made a mistake.”

“You ought to never speak to me again. Put a curse on me. _Kill me_.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Remus growls. “You were an idiot to shut me out. Promise me you’ll never do that again.”

“I promise,” Sirius whispers. “I promise. I’m so sorry.” Sirius puts one hand on either side of Remus’ face and kisses him. Hard.

**January 2 nd 1977**

Lily turns up on James’ doorstep, and he freezes.

“Wh…”

“Where is he?” she says.

James’ confusion grows. “Who?”

“The prime minister. Who the fuck do you think?”

He leads her through the house, all the time thinking, _Lily Evans is in my house, Lily Evans is in my house_ , suddenly feeling self-conscious about the state of their living room, and hoping that there will be no reason for her to see his room…

“You selfish PRICK!” Lily shouts when she sees Sirius on the couch. His smile falters and he looks helplessly at James, who can do no more than shrug.

Lily points an angry finger at James. “I had to find out from _him_ that you’re even alive! I haven’t heard from you in WEEKS! Did your owl lose a wing?”

“Blimey, Evans, tell me how you really feel,” Sirius grins. There are no visible signs of the attack left, but Sirius is still on the mend and James hopes this will not be too stressful for him.

“Lily, please,” James says warily. “Have a seat.” He gestures at the spot next to Sirius on the couch. Grudgingly, Lily takes it. Sirius tries to sit up a little straighter but falters halfway there, however James is there in a heartbeat to steady him. It’s an automatic response by now, but it seems to catch Lily by surprise.

“What happened to you?” Lily asks.

Sirius smiles wryly. “Got trampled by a heard of centaurs. Those hooves…”

“Hey, I mean it. Are you alright?”

“It takes more than centaurs to break a Black,” James says happily, forcing himself to step away from Sirius. “Tea?”

“As dark as my soul,” Sirius replies.

James rolls his eyes and gives Lily a tired look. “That’s two spoonful’s of honey. See what I have to put up with? Spoiled pure-blooded bastard.”

“You’re one to talk!” Sirius laughs.

James sighs deeply and ignores Sirius. “Lily, tea?”

“Oh,” she says. “Sure. I’d love some tea. I’m always up for tea. Any time, any day-“

She cuts herself off, looking adorably flustered. James heads off to the kitchen, hearing Sirius tease her viciously once he has left the room.

**April 23 rd 1977**

Lily never thought she would come to this, but facts are facts and no matter how much she wants to deny it, it appears to be true.

She has a crush on James Potter.

A horrible, gut-wrenching I-can’t-even-speak-when-you’re-in-the-same-room-crush.

It is probably no coincidence that it happens now that he has backed away from her, giving her the space she has so clearly asked for the past couple of years. If only he could be a little forward now. Maybe she would have the nerve to say yes.

It’s not just the fact that he has grown into a ridiculously handsome guy, it’s the small things that she tends to notice more often since she saw him and Sirius at Christmas break. The way he looks after his friends, always nagging at Remus to finish his food, always giving Peter attention when the others are a bit rough on him, and always, always next to Sirius to offer whatever his friend could possibly need.

She starts to notice other things too, like how good he is with the first-years. The grin when a particularly perfect prank has been planned and executed. His hair, not looking flawlessly windswept now so much as just chaotically sticking out in every direction,

All those little things take up way too much of Lily’s time, and the thing that makes it worst of all is that he finally took the hint and left her alone. Just when she started to want him not to.

**June 5 th 1977**

Sirius rents a flat using his inheritance, and James is both so happy for him and sad to see him leave. He’d gotten used to having him around all the time. And even though he lives within walking distance, it’s not the same as having him in the same room.

The best part, however, is furnishing it. All four of them meet up to buy loads of unnecessary stuff for Sirius, who now has more money than the rest of their families combined. At the moment they are antagonising the owner of an antiques shop by running around and touching everything.

James dusts off an old pretty-looking bottle, holding it up for Sirius to see.

“Hey, think this is perfume or whiskey?”

Without a second thought Sirius grabs the bottle and downs it all in one go. He squints his eyes, licks his lips and says, “Not sure.”

**July 14 th 1977**

Sirius gets an owl from Lily and picks her up outside her house. She gives the motorcycle a scornful look.

“Is this thing legal?”

“There’s no magic in it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sirius scoffs. He immediately considers putting a charm on it. It shouldn’t be that difficult getting a motorcycle to fly.

“Do you have a licence?”

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “A what?”

Lily rolls her eyes hard and gets on behind Sirius, arms around his waist without hesitating. “Wizards,” she sighs. Sirius turns the ignition and the engine rumbles to life, Lily hugging him tight when he accelerates down the road, laughing into his ear as he takes the corners a little too fast.

They end up on the floor of Sirius’ flat, muggle music blasting through the speakers, too hot to do anything but lay there and sing and talk.

For several minutes, Lily says nothing. Sirius can just reach her leg with his toes, so he gives her a nudge.

“Why did you send me that owl?”

Lily scoffs. “Do I need a reason to want to hang out with you?”

“Of course not,” Sirius says.

A few more minutes of silence. Then Lily whispers it, so quietly, clearly not wanting to say it out loud.

“My mother is dead.”

There is really no good way to reply to that. Especially for Sirius who would regard his parents’ death as the happiest day of his life. In an attempt to muster up some sympathy he considers how he would feel if someone close to him died. Regulus. Remus. James. Peter. Lily.

He quickly discards that line of thought.

“Fuck,” he says.

Lily sighs in agreement. “She’d been sick for a while. So we all knew it was coming.”

“Your sis and dad?”

“Petunia has mastered the art of pretending I don’t exist.”

Ah. At least something Sirius can relate to.

Lily keeps talking about her family, and Sirius could listen to her forever.

She falls quiet after a while. Led Zeppelin eats up all the silence in the room, and it’s Sirius’ favourite song, and so naturally he sings along. Lily laughs at him at first, but before long she has joined in. They sing themselves hoarse and when the next song comes on they get up and dance.


	16. The Accident

**September 26 th 1977**

The first full moon of the school year begins badly. Horribly. As usual, Remus stops eating. He frequently leaves during the middle of the class or is simply absent. They all know what’s coming, and prepare themselves for it best they can. For James, that mostly means keeping an eye on the other Marauders, making sure they sleep and at least get some sort of sustenance in them. He begs Lily to take extra notes for him, because he sucks at doing it himself and he knows that Remus will need explicitly detailed notes to catch up properly after the full moon.

Something feels different. Like the air around them is vibrating at a new frequency. Remus is even more reserved and quiet than usual. It always drains him, having to go through the transformation alone, and this summer he’s had to deal with three full moons on his own.

The night comes. Remus leaves early, without a word, but Sirius informs James of it as they sit down at dinner. Tells him that Remus seemed stressed out, or, more so than usual. James tells him not to worry and finish his dinner.

They wait for the sun to set and the last pair of fifth-years to leave the common room before they venture out of the castle and to the Whomping Willow. They’re all a bit giddy, excited almost, to be back in their animagi forms. Especially James, who hasn’t had a chance all summer. Peter can pretty much pass of his disguise anywhere, and James and Sirius has used the black dog as a chick magnet on various occasions, but James can’t exactly turn into a stag and strut through the city.

Now he takes long strides across the castle grounds and enjoys the howl of the wind and the grass underneath him, Padfoot barking next to him.

They meet the werewolf some hundred yards from the shack, and fall back into old habits quickly.

Prongs is tall and strong, but still no match against the werewolf, so he hangs back with Wormtail and lets Padfoot and Moony have their fun. He and Peter stay in their animagi forms, Peter sitting on his back as he trots around the shack and into the edges of the forbidden forest. They catch glimpses of Moony and Padfoot throughout the night, sometimes bounding around all three of them (with Wormtail still on James’ back). Moony and Padfoot are inseparable, in human form as well as now. It always creates an ugly pit of emptiness to form in James’ gut, until he reminds himself that Sirius loves him like a brother, and Remus, well… Sirius loves him like something else entirely.

It’s not until they meet Moony and he’s alone that they realize that something is very, very wrong. The night is almost over, and the transformation has already started, and James’ heart is torn over who to choose. He can’t leave Peter with Remus, he just can’t. It goes against every fibre of his being, but he sends Peter off to look for Sirius and carefully guides the werewolf towards the shack. The howls turn to screams and James does everything he can do distract the wolf and keep it from doing too much harm.

Remus lies on the cold, wet grass and he is shuddering and shaking and James transforms in an instant, wrapping him up in his cloak.

“Sirius,” Remus mumbles, reaching out to grab the first thing he touches, which happens to be James’ shirt. “Sirius.”

“Let’s get you back to the shack,” James soothes, taking care of Remus because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. He can’t talk to him about the transformations like Sirius does, or keep him company in the library like Peter, he can only give him an extra blanket and fuss over him and make him eat his food and drink his pumpkin juice.

He walks Remus all the way to the shack, taking way too long to get there and make him comfortable and wrap him up in blankets before he finally allows himself to leave and look for Sirius.

He nearly steps on Peter’s tail on his run back to the forest, grabbing him instantly by the shoulders as he transforms into his human form.

“Where is he?” he breathes, pulling Peter with him, because he can’t stop moving his feet.

“By the lake, the bay in the woods. He’s been-“

Peter doesn’t get to say anything else, James turns into the stag and runs like his life depends on it. He leaps over fallen logs, darts between the trees and comes to a skidding halt next to the great black dog.

He’s on his side, fur sticking out in wet clumps. James can’t even tell if he’s breathing or not. Changing back to his human form is second nature, he doesn’t even think of it. Just kneels next to his friend and listens to the deep crackling sound of his breaths.

“Oh, Padfoot, Merlin’s beard…” he mumbles, running a hand over his side. It comes back red. He shakes him gently, tries to call his name again, but Sirius doesn’t so much as flick an ear and James doesn’t know what to do with him like this. It’s not like he can bring a dog to Madam Pomfrey.

He scrounges his brain for everything he knows about animagi, and he should know a fair amount seeing as he _is_ one, tries to remember if he ever read anything about being injured in your animal form…

“ _Homorphus_ ,” he exclaims, flicks his wand at Sirius and feels his own lungs finally expand as the dog slowly fades into the human.

Human-Padfoot looks even worse, now that there is no black fur to hide his injuries. There are bite marks across his chest, deep, puncturing wounds that leak blood with every heartbeat and James presses his hands against them, completely forgetting every piece of magic he has ever learned.

“Padfoot,” James calls again, louder this time. Sirius takes a wet breath and his head lolls to the side.

“Prongs,” Peter calls from somewhere behind him, and James looks up to see the terrified, breathless boy. “He’s been bitten. D’ya think this means that…?”

Peter doesn’t grace the question with an ending. He doesn’t have to.

 _Now there’s two of them_ , James thinks. And he thinks of Remus, passed out in the Shrieking Shack, who will undoubtedly disintegrate once he finds out what he’s done.

“Peter, get Madam Pomfrey. Get help. I don’t care who you find, just find _someone_ who can help us.”

Peter is gone in an instant.

“’oony,” Sirius exhales. “Mmoon…”

“It’s okay, Padfoot, we’re going to get you some help. You’re okay.”

“S’not…not his fault,” he mumbles. With his impressive immunity to pain he tries to sit up, but James holds him down even though it makes tears burn behind his eyes.

“Don’t try to talk, Padfoot. Just lie still,” James urges, in vain because Sirius has already passed out again.

How long James sits like that with his hands keeping the blood and the life from slipping out of Sirius’ body, he doesn’t know. The next thing he knows is standing on his feet as Hagrid scoops Sirius into his arms and running off to the castle. His arms and legs are cramping and shaking and a violent shudder passes through his body.

“C’mon, Prongs,” Peter squeals. “We have to go back.”

James finds himself being guided back to the castle, to the hospital, to Madam Pomfrey’s office. He hears distantly that Sirius has been transferred to St. Mungo’s.

“Boys, I’m afraid I have a very urgent appointment. I’ll have to ask you to leave,” she says promptly. Of course, she doesn’t know they know that she’s going to fetch Remus and bring him back to the castle. She doesn’t know that he’ll be tearing the place apart once he wakes up and Sirius isn’t by his side.

They are alone in the corridor outside the hospital, and then suddenly they are not alone.

“Follow me,” Dumbledore’s smooth voice says, and James realizes then and there that Dumbledore’s voice is the only thing that will make him feel a little less ruined after the night they’ve had.

**September 27 th 1977**

Remus wakes up.

He kind of wishes that he hadn’t.

Especially when the seat next to his bed is empty.

Regardless of what he might tell the others, he remembers fragments of his nights during the full moon. Bits and pieces. Feelings, mostly. And the overwhelming, nauseating _guilt_ that is trapped inside him now can only mean one thing.

One of the Marauders got hurt. He hurt one of them. Badly, considering that he’s alone.

Madam Pomfrey rushes to his side once she sees that his eyes are open and he attempts to sit up. She helps him up, fluffs up the pillows with her wand and points it at the blanket. It instantly heats up. He pushes away her every attempt at asking him how he’s feeling and if he’s uncomfortable and whether he is in pain.

“Who did I- what- Where are my friends?” he settles with, looking around once more as if they were just hiding and are now going to jump out and yell “surprise”.

Madam Pomfrey scoffs and straightens out a non-existent crease on her apron. 

“Visitors are highly un-recommended in hospitals. They spread all kinds of diseases and bacteria and-“

“Madam Pomfrey, did you forbid my friends from visiting me?”

She scoffs again, a little more high-pitched this time, and shakes her head firmly. “I saw two of them walk off with Dumbledore last night, undoubtedly to get a proper scolding for being out of bed in the middle of the night. No manners _what_ soever in those boys.” She eyes him sternly at that, challenging him to prove that he, unlike his friends, has manners.

“Madam Pomfrey, please…”

He doesn’t have to ask her again. Dumbledore enters the hospital, with James and Peter sheepishly trailing after him.

 _Oh god no. Not him_ , Remus thinks.

“Remus,” Dumbledore says kindly, and takes the chair next to the bed. Madam Pomfrey seems to take her cue and leaves, quietly for once.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Remus greets back.

“Are you alright? Want some chocolate?”

“I’m fine. Where’s Sirius?”

“Mr. Black is currently at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, being treated for the severe bites he acquired last night,” Dumbledore explains, in that simple, truthful way of his. It’s not like Dumbledore to break things gently, but he never needs to since his entire being is the epitome of gentle and that is somehow always enough.

“Bites,” Remus mumbles.

“Yes, bites. Several of them, in fact. If I understand correctly…” He regards James and Peter through his glasses, and continues, “The three of them ventured into the forbidden forest last night, got separated, and Mr. Black was injured during their brief period of time apart. Correct?”

“Yes, sir,” James and Peter reply in unison.

“It was me,” Remus growls. There’s really no point in denying it. “Sir, it was me, and we all know it. I bit him, and now he’s going to be a werewolf too.” Dumbledore arches an eyebrow at that, which only serves to make Remus more upset.

“Don’t pretend you thought they didn’t know. You even know that they are animagi, don’t you?”

James and Peter stand behind Dumbledore looking quite like a deer and a rat caught in the headlights of a truck destined to hit them. Dumbledore simply chuckles.

“I am most impressed, above all, by your friends’ loyalty. True Gryffindors, all of you.”

Remus wants to scream and shout because that is so far from the point that it physically hurts. But he doesn’t. Because he is Remus Lupin, and not Sirius Black or James Potter.

“Sirius,” he says shortly, pointedly, biting the word off like the snap from stepping on a twig.

“Will survive,” Dumbledore proclaims. “The healers told us that much. As for your concern about-“

“We won’t know until the next full moon. Yeah. I know.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore says humbly, and bows his head a little. “I shall let you rest and talk to your friends without adult presence. Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, remember that you have transfiguration in fifteen minutes. Professor McGonagall does not tolerate tardiness.”

He leaves in that quiet, hovering way of his. One moment he is there, and the next gone.

“Moony,” Peter tries, but there is no strength left in his voice and it dies out instantly when he looks up at Remus’ face.

With James it is different. Because when things are good and they are all happy, James never shuts up. Now he seems close to lethargic. In shock, probably.

“James,” Remus whispers, pleading for something, anything that will make him feel a little less like crap. “How bad was it?”

James swallows hard and shakes his head. Nudges at Peter to get him to speak.

“It was pretty bad, Moony,” Peter says shakily. “Blood all over. I though he was dead when I first found him.”

James hits him hard on the back of the head. It does little to ease Remus’ conscience.

“Just leave. Ask Lily to take extra notes for me. I don’t want to see you here again unless it’s to tell me that Sirius miraculously has been cured.”


	17. The Drinking Game

**October 2 nd 1977**

Sirius woke up two days ago and has not been allowed to leave his bed. It is quite frustrating, to say the least. His legs are tingling uncomfortably and he is so very _bored_ that he considers getting up and making every bed in St Mungo’s levitate just to see what would happen to him. Before he can go to such extreme measures, however, the door opens and James and Peter come inside. Their expressions are suited for visiting a dying man, which is strange, considering that Sirius’ wounds have basically healed and he is rearing to go back to school.

“Ah! Visitors! Finally!” he exclaims. Peter smiles weakly. “Where’s Moony?”

“You can’t be serious?” James says, sounding weary. Sirius grins.

“I am, actually.”

James looks like he wants to hit him.

“He’s beating himself into bits and pieces about this. He’s barely said a word.”

“Well he’s a bloody idiot. As are you lot for letting him believe that it’s his fault.”

“Pads, it is his fault. I mean, it’s not, but it is,” Peter stutters.

“That’s very eloquent of you, Wormtail. Merlin’s beard, I am surrounded by morons. Complete pumpkin-heads.” He whips out a cigarette and lights it, hospital rules be damned.

James cracks at last. “Will you please tell us what happened?”

“Well, first of all, Moony did not bite me. I repeat: MOONY DID NOT BITE ME. May I get a quill and parchment so I can send a Howler to his sorry ass? Morons, all of you.”

“Moony didn’t bite you?” James repeats, a flicker of hope lit in his eyes once again.

“Of course he didn’t. I’m the only thing keeping him entertained at night, why would he risk maiming me lethally? We ran across a pack of wolves in the forest, and the werewolf jumped the pack leader. Would’ve been torn to bits if I hadn’t stepped in, so naturally they tore me to bits instead.”

In the end, Sirius does send a Howler to Moony, but neither of the other Marauders are there to hear it and apparently Moony refused to reveal its contents. James tells him that the refusal came along with Moony’s ears turning into a bright red, which makes Sirius laugh and James and Peter beg for details. Some things are better left unsaid.

**October 4 th 1977**

Sirius returns to Hogwarts and Remus doesn’t know how to talk to him. He gets flustered and uncomfortable and tries his hardest to not be in the same room alone with him. He makes it through the day, but when he goes to shower that night he is followed. Avoiding Sirius when Sirius demands attention is unfortunately quite impossible.

They stop face to face outside the bathroom. Remus expects a scolding, but all he gets is two soft puppy-eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” Sirius sighs. Remus does not disagree. “Hey.” He grabs Remus’ arm. The motion draws Remus’ eyes to the tattoo. “We all know the risks of doing this, Moony. It hasn’t stopped us before, and it won’t stop us now.”

Remus shakes his head violently. “It’s not worth it.”

Sirius smiles sadly. “Yes, it is.”

Tears threaten to spill from Remus’ eyes, because of these stupid, stubborn, loyal friends of his. “Please. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Yes, you do.”

Sirius pulls Remus’ face down to his level and presses a kiss to his forehead. When he leaves to walk back to the common room, he turns around and walks backwards, saying, “What do you think would happen if an Animagus turned into a werewolf?

With a grin and a salute he is off.

**October 7 th 1977**

James has barely seen Lily since the start of term, having been quite busy after Sirius’ accident, and with life in general.

His Quidditch duties take up a lot of time too, although they are starting to wear on him. Sirius almost _died_ , and James is playing Quidditch. There are death eaters-to-be at their school, in their classrooms, and doing anything other than stopping them feels like time wasted.

He walks alone from the pitch back to the school, deep in thought and he doesn’t notice Lily until she’s right by his side.

“Good game,” she says. James wonders what she’s talking about, remembers that he’s still wearing the red-and-gold robes, and scratches the side of his head.

“Thank you.”

“Although I was waiting for you to score. I had made a _Go James Potter_ flag that I was going to hold up.”

“Really?”

Lily laughs softly. “No, of course not.”

James tries to smile.

“Hey, are you okay? You seem… Preoccupied.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have joked about you not making any goals. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, don’t apologize, please. I just…” he exhales his frustrations and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t have time for Quidditch right now. People are dying. Voldemort is coming. And here I am, playing a pointless game, when I should be getting ready.”

“Hey,” Lily says softly, resting the tips of her fingers on his arm. He looks down on them, on the electric feeling of her touch. “Don’t let him take this away, too.”

James gets it, but he wants her to keep talking. “What?”

“You know. All the good things.”

Her fingers disappear, but the feeling lingers. He looks up at her, fierce and passionate and so _alive_ , and his heart forgets how to beat in rhythm.

**December 15 th 1977**

No one knows who brought the firewhiskey. All of them, probably, considering the number of bottles littering the floor in front of the fire in the common room. The fire that Remus reignited, seeing as it’s way past midnight and it had burned out long ago.

All the seven-years are there, even Kingsley Shacklebolt. Remus eyes him curiously, never before wondering what he has done all the years sharing a room with the marauders. Getting an education, probably.

Now he is laughing drunkenly with an arm around Sirius’ shoulders as Sirius sings a muggle song at the top of his lungs.

Remus takes another drink and feels it burn on the way down. He’s had more than the rest of them combined, and still he is the most sober one. It is a bit unfair, but perhaps not the worst part of his curse.

Peter is balancing two wands on his forehead, quite successfully, at least until one falls and he catches it badly, making sparks fly. Remus quickly confiscates every wand in the room.

Marlene holds up an empty bottle and clears her throat. “Lily taught me this muggle game a few months ago. It’s called truth or dare.”

“Marlene, please, no,” Lily laughs, trying to pry the bottle from her fingers while laughing uncontrollably.

Marlene holds the bottle further away from Lily’s grasp. “One person spins the bottle, and the person it points to has to do what the person who spun the bottle tells him or her to do.”

Lily corrects, “No, the person the bottle points to choses truth or dare. Truth is you tell a secret, dare is you have to do something.”

The ten people in the circle nod. Remus wonders where this night will end.

Marlene, who has the bottle in hand, places it in the middle of the circle and spins it. It stops on Sirius.

“Okay, what do I do?” Sirius says excitedly.

Marlene turns to Lily. “What does he do?”

“He chooses truth or dare,” Lily laughs.

“Alright, dare,” Sirius says.

Marlene cracks a feral smile. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room.”

Remus doesn’t miss how she bats her eyelids at him, and it sparks a sharp jealousy in him even though he gave up the right to decide who Sirius gets to kiss.

Sirius kisses his own hand, and Remus laughs. When Marlene starts to protest, Sirius says, “Hey, you said the prettiest person. I’m sorry none of you can live up to the beauty that is Sirius Black.”

They laugh, and drink some more, and keep playing.

A while (and a lot of drinks) later, the bottle ends up in Sirius’ corner again. After attempting a cartwheel and barely avoiding falling into the fire, Sirius spins the bottle. It stops on Lily.

Sirius smiles smugly. “Lily, I dare you to kiss James.”

Remus glances at James who has frozen with his hand half-way through fixing his hair. The look of terror in his eyes is hilarious.

The look Lily and Sirius exchange tells Remus that Sirius will regret this decision in a more sober state. Now, however, he only holds a wide grin.

Lily reaches for the bottle closest to her, takes a long drink and crawls up to James, grabs hold of his shirt and kisses him hard. Cheers break out as they part, James still frozen but now with a look of awe on his face, and Lily returns to her place with flushed cheeks and a crooked grin.


	18. The End

**February 14 th 1978**

James thinks about the kiss. A lot. Too much. He finds it hard to think of anything else.

So when he walks alone and finds Lily standing in the main entrance, light from outside casting her in a magnificent glow, he has to ask her.

“Hey, Evans, want to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

“Sure.”

James is so prepared for the inevitable ‘no’ that it takes him a moment to understand. “Wait, what?”

“I said yes.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Merlin’s Beard, really? Wow!” James’ heart beats in his throat and he heads straight for the road towards Hogsmeade. It takes a few seconds before he stops and runs back to Lily who just watches him with a soft smile. He clears his throat. “Do you want to go right now?”

“Sure.”

James stands next to her and together they start to walk.

Somewhere along the way their hands join.

**March 13 th 1978**

Peter doesn’t mean to do it. The only thing that could have made this day worse would be if it was Friday the 13th. Luckily it’s just a Monday. But it is a Monday when James and Sirius and Remus and Peter have planned to put a rotting-spell on the Slytherins’ breakfast table. They have perfected the plan for a while now, with one specific part that Peter is not too comfortable with.

He is the lookout.

Being the lookout is not so bad, when he has someone by his side, because then he gets the strength to be brave and loyal and stand up to just about anyone. Today, he is alone.

With James and Remus going to the kitchen while Sirius does his thing in the Great Hall, Peter hangs out in the corridor by the fruit-painting that leads to the kitchen.

He taps his fingers on his leg impatiently. They are up early, but the first Hufflepuffs could be coming out of their common room any second now.

Footsteps. Peter feels his heartbeat. He should turn into a rat and run to James and Remus, but he stands frozen.

The Slytherin head of house turns up, Adam Farley, and stops when he sees Peter.

“You!”

Peter swallows hard.

“Your classmate, Mr. Black, was just found hexing the Slytherin’s table in the Great Hall. We figured the rest of you wouldn’t be too far away.”

Peter keeps his eyes locked on Farley, forcing himself not to look at the fruit painting. The map is in his back pocket, only a blank page now, of course, but he _should have used it_. If only he had used the map he would have seen the Slytherin's approach.

“Where are the other two? Lupin and Potter?” He spits their names out.

Peter doesn’t say anything, but Farley steps closer and closer until he can grab Peter’s cloak by the neck and push him back against the wall. A mean sneer is on his face. Peter starts to shake.

“Where. Are. They.”

The four of them end up in detention. Pulling weeds around the castle grounds, no magic allowed. Sirius is not happy about it. In fact, he refuses to even look at Peter. James and Remus are more understanding.

“It’s alright, Wormtail,” James says for the third time. He stops Sirius from throwing a dandelion-root at Peter’s face. “It’s not the first time we get caught.”

Remus adds, “It’s not the first time the look-out gets caught.” He gives James a pointed look.

“It’s the first time the look-out can’t keep his mouth shut,” Peter mutters. He pulls at a scrawny-looking plant that has more strength than one would think.

Sirius holds up a tuft of grass. “My point exactly.”

Peter’s ears burn.

**April 4 th 1978**

James is so ridiculously in love with Lily Evans that Sirius feels like he’s going to be sick. It’s all he talks about, despite having been told off twice by Pince.

Lily this, Lily that. It is _infuriating_. Especially since Sirius has been friends with her for a while now, and James keeps telling him the most obvious things that anyone who has spent more than two minutes with Lily will know.

“She is the smartest person I’ve ever met,” James says.

Sirius nods.

“And her hair. It’s so red. Like fire.”

Sirius says, “Mhm.”

“She just makes me feel _seen_ , y’know?”

Sirius cocks an eyebrow at him. James doesn’t even notice.

Cue Lily, who turns up with Remus and Peter behind James’ back. Laughing at something Peter said. Sirius sees the second she spots James, how her cheeks flush and her smile grows wider and she runs up to him and throws her arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Peter takes the seat beside James, while Remus comes around the table to Sirius’s side. He sits close. Close enough that their legs press up against each other, and their shoulders touch, and when Sirius looks at him their faces are only a breathing space apart.

He quickly looks at Lily and James again. Gazing at each other with unreserved love.

**June 1978**

It is the end of an era, but the start of a new one.

The Marauders leave Hogwarts as they arrived, together, on the train, sun beating in through the window, paying for the chocolate frogs this time. Sad to leave Hogwarts, of course, but still not too bad since they haven’t planned to part ways. Sirius’ flat in central London is large enough for the four of them. And with no teachers and rules to hold them back, the possibilities are endless. They have their whole lives ahead of them.


	19. The Order Of The Phoenix

**August 10 th 1978**

When Dumbledore asks James if he wants to help fight the Death Eaters, he does not hesitate for even a second. He has been watching this war from the side-lines for far too long.

There is a meeting in what appears to be an abandoned textile shop, but holds a great open room upstairs. Ten or fifteen people all look up as he enters the room. He recognizes a few from Hogwarts, all having graduated years before him, then there’s Dumbledore, of course, and Hagrid.

Dumbledore does not have to speak to get everyone’s attention. Silence sets in without a single word or gesture.

“James Potter,” Dumbledore says. James flashes an uncertain smile. All eyes are once again on him.

“Hello.”

A man walks up to James, one who must have been in the sixth or seventh year when James first came to Hogwarts. He has an eye-patch covering his left eye. James feels like he is being sniffed out by a bloodhound.

“Bloody hell, Albus, which nursery did you steal this one from?” the man grunts.

James doesn’t mean to be quite so harsh, but he says, “At least I have two eyes to see that you look like something pulled from a goblin’s arse!”

The silence that follows is painfully quiet. Then the man bursts out a laugh.

Dumbledore looks quite amused himself when he says, “James, meet Alastor Moody. One of the greatest Aurors of our time.”

“Oh.” James swallows hard.

Dumbledore continues the introductions. “You know Hagrid. Then there’s Caradoc Dearborn. Frank and Alice Longbottom. The Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon…”

James hears all their names, sees all their faces, and is welcomed into the Order of the Phoenix.

When he gets home that night, he tells his friends all about it. And at the next meeting, the Order has gained four new members.

**October 10 th 1978**

It is a rare sunny day. Sirius is working on the motorcycle on the street outside the flat when he hears footsteps approach. He quickly whips his wand away and returns to tightening a bolt. Lily shows up in his field of vision with shopping bags in hand, waving despite having her hands full.

“What are you up to?” she says. Her nose is red from the cold air. It makes Sirius wonder how his own face is looking. His eyes are drawn to the bike. There is no good way to answer Lily’s question.

“Well…”

She rolls her eyes and puts the bags down. “Sirius, what are you doing to your motorcycle?”

Sirius laughs shortly. “You’re actually the one that gave me the idea.”

“Oh no, please don’t blame me.”

There is a short pause. “I thought it’d be cool to have a flying bike,” Sirius says.

Lily eyes the motorcycle with scepticism. “Are you sure that’s a wise decision?”

“Love, the day I make a wise decision, please send me to Azkaban.”

“You will probably be sent there anyways. This can hardly be legal.”

Sirius throws a grin at her that he knows she can’t refuse. “It’s only a crime if you get caught.”

She rolls her eyes at him but smiles nonetheless. As Sirius brushes hair out of his eyes with a greasy hand, she steps up to his side and, with some mild complaining from Sirius’ side, pulls his hair into a bun.

“Brave move, touching the hair,” Sirius says. He gives his head a little shake. The bun holds.

“You’ll thank me when you don’t have to get the grease stains out.” She picks up the shopping bags from the ground. “Come on up when you’re done. I’m cooking.”

“Yeah, about that.” Sirius picks up a wrench from between his feet.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re going to complain about my cooking?”

“Of course not,” Sirius laughs. “I appreciate it. We all do. But Prongs has forgotten how the kitchen works.”

“Seeing as you all suck at doing any housework whatsoever, I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t starve.”

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you don’t want every meal cooked in a microwave?”

Lily shrugs him off. “It’s not like I live here, Sirius.”

“Well, that’s a bloody lie and you know it.” She tries to argue, but Sirius stops her. “I’m not saying that I mind you being here. It’s just getting a bit cramped.”

“If I’m such a nuisance, I’ll just-“

“ _Evans_ ,” Sirius interrupts. She gives him a cold glance. “I love having you around. But I think you and James are ready to get your own place. Y’know, in a while. A year or so. Just think about it.”

Lily tries, unsuccessfully, to hide a grin. “A year or so?”

“Shut up,” Sirius scoffs.

She comes back to him, places a soft kiss on his forehead, and as she leaves Sirius turns back to the motorcycle.

**January 1 st 1979**

Lily shows up at the police station, the _muggle_ police station, not knowing what to expect but certainly quite pleased when she is led to a cell only to find four ragged-looking Marauders inside. James beams at her like the sun coming out on a rainy day. Sirius rolls his eyes. Peter raises a hand for a wave. Remus, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, opens one eye, scoffs, then closes it again.

Lily gives James a quick kiss through the bars. “What happened to you? Me and Marlene went looking.”

“I don’t know, James, what happened?” Remus says bitterly.

Sirius chimes in. “I just remember James saying ‘it’ll be fun’.”

Peter nods. “And then we woke up here.”

“Good for you lot,” Remus says. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve been practically sober all night.”

Sirius and James and Peter laugh.

“Mate, there was an incident involving some muggle drink that was a little bit stronger than what you’re used to,” James says.

“Yes, I would not call that ‘sober’,” Sirius adds.

Remus glares at them.

Later, Lily learns that it had been Remus’ idea to go skinny dipping in St. James’ Park Lake. Something to do with the name of the lake. _St. James_. According to Peter, it had inspired them all.

**May 15 th 1979**

Lily’s hand is in James’, where it feels most at home. She looks over her shoulder at Sirius, who chooses that exact moment to snap a picture of them. He grins broadly and turns the lens to a street musician.

Lily looks up at James and gets that familiar swell of affection that she will never grow tired of. She thinks of the house waiting for them in Godric’s Hollow and squeezes his hand a little tighter.

James throws her a crooked smile. “Ready to be rid of the boys?”

Sirius shouts from somewhere far behind them, “Oi, I heard that!”

“I’m going to miss them,” Lily says. “But I am ready to have you all to my own.”

Sirius catches up to them at an intersection and adds, “And we’re ready for some peace and quiet! I haven’t slept for months with you two being at it all night!” 

“Shut it, Snuffles!” James laughs.

They walk the two blocks back to the flat, all surprised to see a woman waiting outside, most of all Lily.

“Tuney?”

Petunia makes no sign at all to indicate being happy to see her sister for the first time in over a year. She eyes James and Sirius with suspicion and straightens her already perfectly fitted blouse.

“I didn’t know how to get in touch with you. I suppose you neither have a phone nor post box.”

James and Sirius hang back behind Lily, understandable, considering the fiery stares Petunia keeps giving them. Lily steps right in front of her to draw the attention to herself.

“Tuney, you know dad has sent letters to me before.”

Petunia scoffs. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. He died, two days ago now. The funeral is next Thursday at Cokeworth cemetery. 11 o’clock. I’ll see you then.”

She turns on her heel and leaves, and suddenly the ground rushes up towards Lily’s face. The combined strength of James and Sirius keep her from falling, but they can’t keep the tears away. She cries silently, no strength to run after her sister and ask for more details, no strength to do anything but rest in James’ arms as he guides her up to the flat.

Remus and Peter break off whatever they were doing as soon as they see her and come to her side, and her four boys spend the rest of the afternoon making her tea and speaking gently and doing their best not to show their obvious hatred of Petunia.


	20. The Wedding

**The first day of autumn 1979**

The letter comes without warning, as these things tend to do. An official-looking owl with an official-looking letter, the Ministry of Magic’s logo engraved in the paper. Sirius opens it, reads it, and leaves without a word.

James hurries after him, Lily and Peter sit frozen, staring at the door where first Sirius, then James, just disappeared.

Remus picks the letter up from the floor and only has to read the first line before he too leaves to find Sirius.

_On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I, Ruth Dunell, regret to inform you that Regulus A. Black was found deceased on the morning of September 30 th. _

They find Sirius hours later in the park outside 12 Grimmauld Place, staring up at the windows of a house he swore never to return to.

**November 24 th 1979**

“I’m pregnant.”

A short pause, then he blurts it out without warning and Lily can’t help but love him for it. “Marry me.”

She laughs, a quiet, sad laugh that makes something soften in his eyes. “James, that’s not at all a proper response to that announcement.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t care. Marry me. Today.”

“We can’t get married, you idiot, there’s a war.”

“There’s a war and we’re having a kid, you idiot. We have to get married.”

“We’re 20 years old. You won’t want to spend the rest of your life with me. You’ll get sick of me and regret it and leave me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

They share a quiet look. Both of them know that the rest of their lives might not be that long.

**November 26 th 1979**

There is no white dress or bouquets with flowers to match the bridesmaids’ dresses. There is, however, an officiant, Sirius by James’ side and Marlene by Lily’s, a small audience with Remus and Peter and James’ parents in front.

James marries the love of his life with a smile on his face and he knows that not a day will come when he will not love her.

**November 20 th 1979**

Neither Lily or James want to leave for a honeymoon, so they stay. They spend a few nights in the new house before going back to London, needing to be at the centre of things. Needing to be close to their friends.

James and Sirius climb up to the roof of Sirius’ building and pretends to see the stars through the clouds. It’s a cold night, but with a heating spell they could lie there forever. James runs his thumb over the ring. He still can’t believe it.

For a while they talk nonsense, and for a while they don’t talk at all. James’ toes are nudged into the space underneath Sirius’ legs.

“Think he’s up there?” James says. He points at the imaginary stars.

“Huh?” Sirius mumbles.

“Regulus. Think he can see us?”

“Dunno, mate. Faith is not really my thing.”

James laughs at the inaccuracy of Sirius’ words. “You live on a diet of faith and loyalty, my friend. So I think that means the answer is yes.”

Sirius sighs heavily. “Sure. I mean, I suppose so.”

James turns his head to look at his friend instead. He loves him, _so much_. Too much for words, really. He himself is surprised by the strength of it. His best friend. Within arm’s length.

“Padfoot?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be the godfather?”

James can hear Sirius’ breath catch. Looking over at Sirius again, he is met by an ear-splitting grin.

“It would be my honour.”

They chuckle and turn their gazes back to the stars.

“Hey, Prongs?”

James hums.

“I’d like to tell you something. Please stay quiet while I do?”

“Sure.”

There is a short pause and plenty of deep breaths. “I realized I never told you…”

“Told me what?”

Sirius waits for what James supposes is the right moment. “You mean a lot to me. You know that, right?” Sirius suddenly grabs James’ hand and holds it tight. “You are family. What family is supposed to be. And I am so grateful.”

James doesn’t know whether to be serious or reply with something funny to relieve some of the tension in the air. He gets it, he gets what Sirius means more than his friend will ever know.

“You’re the best, Sirius,” James says at last. He hopes that it is enough.

**December 18 th 1979**

Shortly after the wedding, James visits his parents for the last time. They are both sick and weak and shells of the people he met only a few weeks earlier. The dragon pox takes hold and soon James is the one to get an official letter from the Ministry of Magic. Not that he needed it. He already knew.

**January 17 th 1980**

Sirius agreed to join the Order of the Phoenix in a heartbeat. He is prepared to do anything to fight the spreading darkness, offer his body and life, anything.

Anything except seeing his friends suffer.

Remus returns from a mission looking half-dead and years older than when he left. He collapses on the couch and sleeps the rest of the day, only waking up to eat before he goes back to sleep.

Sirius gets James’ attention from the kitchen, pulling him away from Lily and Peter’s cooking. He nods towards the sleeping Remus and sees James’ jaw harden.

“Dumbledore?” Sirius asks.

James nods.

They head to the front door, Sirius grabbing their cloaks from the coat hanger. “We’ll be back soon darling,” James calls to Lily. Her head appears, along with Peter’s.

“What does that make me?” Peter says with a grin.

“Love you,” Lily says.

“Love you too,” Sirius and James say in unison, then laugh at Lily’s eye-roll.

They apparate to one of the larger safe-houses, then the Leaky Cauldron, Ollivander’s shop, realize it’s no use and go straight to Hogwarts instead.

As soon as the castle comes into view, Sirius feels himself relax. How he has missed being there. The snow-clad roof, the soft yellow glow from the windows. All in all the overwhelming feeling of _coming home_ aches in his chest.

He looks at James, and a different but just as strong feeling of _home_ hits him.

They meet Dumbledore in the Hog’s Head. James and Sirius politely pretend not to notice how the brothers Dumbledore ignore each other.

Albus Dumbledore eyes them curiously, patient but also keen on getting answers from them.

“So, to what do I owe this sudden visit?” he says.

James says, “It’s Remus, sir. Remus Lupin.”

“I know who he is by his first name alone.”

“Of course. We were just wondering…”

Sirius picks up where James trailed off. “He needs a break, professor. If you keep running him at full speed, eventually he will break.”

Dumbledore peers at Sirius through his glasses. “I suppose Mr. Lupin is not aware of your current whereabouts?”

They shake their heads simultaneously.

“And are you aware of Mr. Lupin’s progress during the last couple of weeks? How many threats he has encountered, defeated or turned into our favour?”

“No, sir.”

Dumbledore nods. “A substantial amount, I must say. I am most pleased with his work.”

“He will collapse.”

“Then I am sure you will be there to support him. No one is forcing Mr. Lupin to do anything. If he wants a break, it is up to him to take it. If he does not, I am afraid I cannot waste his talent.”

With that, Dumbledore very obviously marks the end of their conversation, and James and Sirius can do nothing but go back home.


	21. The Traitor

**June 12 th 1980**

With their bellies too large to do much besides sitting on the couch and yelling at their husbands to fetch them snacks, Alice and Lily get a lot of bonding time. They compare their swollen legs, discuss how the nurseries are to be decorated (with Frank interrupting to remind Alice that the room is already finished), leaf through every parenting book that exists and eat way too much.

James and Lily’s cat lands smoothly on Alice’s lap and receives a cuddle. Alice almost seems to be doing it on auto-pilot, mind somewhere else. There is something about her that always impresses Lily, maybe the fact that she is one of the key members of the Order, never backing away from a fight, maybe the fact that she is also having a child and therefore a huge role model for Lily. Maybe it is just the fact that Alice is older and perhaps more prepared for the whole bringing-a-child-into-the-world-thing.

Lily feels a kick and presses her palms against her skin gingerly. Out of everything that scares her right now, having a kid might be the scariest and yet most wonderful thing of all.

**July 31 st 1980**

The boy is beautiful. There’s nothing else James can say about him. A small, pink, screaming creature that settles in James’ arms almost immediately. Lily smiles at the two of them while James holds him, making soft cooing noises subconsciously.

Sirius, Remus and Peter hover in the doorway, both curious and trying to show some respect. Only thinking that he wants them to come closer is enough to make the three of them approach James. Sirius stops on the way to plant a kiss on the top of Lily’s head.

The boy looks up at the four Marauders with big eyes. Remus gets to hold him first, tenderly brushing the dark strands of hair on his head. Sirius sniffles.

“Padfoot, are you crying?” James says.

“Shut up,” Sirius mumbles.

Peter won’t hold the baby, afraid to drop him. James insists but Peter holds firm, and so James doesn’t push it.

**February 15 th 1981**

Sirius visits late at night, taking every precaution to make sure he isn’t being followed. He is supposed to be tracking Death Eaters in Cardiff, but he just needed one night of peace. One night to remind himself why he is fighting.

James welcomes him with Harry nestled against his chest, giving Sirius a hug that squeezes Harry between them.

“How are you?” James asks. Sirius makes sure to pull his sleeves down to cover the bruises from his last fight.

“Fine. Tired. You?”

James shrugs. Then Lily calls from the living room, “He’s two diaper changes away from busting out of here. Please talk some sense into him, Padfoot.”

Sirius laughs. They head towards her voice and Sirius sits next to her on the couch, receiving a big-eyed Harry into his arms.

“Tea?” James asks.

“Please,” Sirius says. James disappears to the kitchen, and once he is out of hearing range, Sirius adds, “He okay?”

Lily straightens Harry’s shirt. “Neither of us are very happy about our current situation. I just happen to be better at hiding my restlessness.”

“You’re better off, really,” Sirius sighs. “There was another attack just two days ago. Fifteen muggles dead. Two of our patrols were attacked, but luckily they all survived. And…”

“What?” Lily sinks deeper into the couch cushions. Sirius lets Harry play with his hair while considering his mother.

“I don’t know. I’m just getting the feeling that the Death Eaters know what we’re going to do before we do it.”

Lily clamps her lips together.

“What’s that?” James says, head sticking out from the kitchen.

“Sirius thinks there is a spy,” Lily says.

James curses under his breath, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. “A spy?”

Lily says, “Who?”

Sirius shrugs. He has his suspicions. All he knows is that the only ones who knew about the Order-patrol in Suffolk were him and Peter, and Remus. Remus, who has been absent for almost a year now. Only checking in once every two months or so.

Sirius would never dream of saying his thoughts out loud, he knows all too well how powerful a weapon doubt is, he feels it eating away at him every second.

 _Not Remus_.

But what if?

**July 31 st 1981**

There is a tiny broomstick in the window of a shop that Sirius is incapable of not buying. It’s perfect. He won’t be able to go to the Potter’s for Harry’s birthday, but at least he can get him something. Two owls carry the package away into the night sky, Sirius smiling as he thinks of Harry zooming around the house.

**October 23 rd 1981**

Dumbledore’s patronus comes without warning, but then again, he has never been much for explaining his reasons and motives, more the blind-trust type of person. Sirius trusts him. He does. But he is also a bit irritated at the way Dumbledore chose to tell James and Lily to use every piece of known magic to hide themselves.

They sit around the kitchen table, Lily, James and Sirius, the trace of Dumbledore’s voice still vibrating in the air. Harry sits on James’ knee, James bouncing him up and down and his shrill laughter escalating with every second.

Lily pulls her hair back from her face. “There’s no way around it. We’ll just have to reinforce the protective enchantments and add some more. Anything we can think of.”

Sirius’ gaze jumps from Lily to Harry to James and back to Lily. The unfair and inappropriate thought of _why did it have to be them_ hits him again and again and again. _Why_. He would have taken every curse and second of torture in the world to keep them safe.

“The Fidelius Charm,” James mumbles. He turns to Sirius, and doesn’t have to say anything for Sirius to know what he is about to ask.

“No.”

“Padfoot. We trust you with our lives,” James says calmly. Lily nods from her end of the table. “And though it is unfair to put this burden on you, you know there is no better choice.”

Sirius disagrees. “They know you’ll pick me. It’s too obvious.”

Harry’s laughter dies out and he stares at Sirius with big eyes. Sirius wonders just how much he raised his voice to cause that reaction. He takes a moment to think, to come up with a solution to support his point of view. Every part of him wants to tell them to choose Remus, but still he can’t do it. He might trust Remus and be prepared to die if he turns out to be wrong, but he will not gamble with the Potter’s lives.

“It has to be Peter,” he says at last. Yes. No one, _no one_ , will think of Peter. It’s the only way.

Lily and James look uncertain, but he convinces them of it. 

When he has stayed for far too long he gives the still-awake Harry and the sleepy Lily a kiss on the forehead each.

James follows him to the door. Looks out at the dark night sky.

“I wish I could go with you,” James sighs longingly.

“You’re better off here, mate.” Sirius pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

“Ever think about quitting?” James says. He nods at the cigarette which makes Sirius laugh and blow smoke into his face.

“You sound like Moony.”

A pause. James leans against the doorframe. “You think it’s him?” The question is unexpected and leaves Sirius speechless for a minute. James sighs again. “You’d never put Peter before him.”

“Well, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Sirius nods. He hopes so.

James puts all his weight back on his feet and grabs the door, ready to let Sirius leave. He throws one last grin. “You should stop. Those things will kill you. Or, so I’ve heard.”

“Give my love to Lily and Harry,” Sirius says with a wave, already walking off. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he turns around James is still there, watching him with a smile.


	22. The Last Halloween

**Halloween 1981**

The second Sirius steps into Peter’s hiding place his blood turns to ice. It’s empty. Abandoned, by the looks of it, rather than the site of an attack. Still, he searches every room three times over, calls Peter’s name again and again, but it is no use.

He is gone.

The entire concept of Peter disappearing is incomprehensible and it takes a few minutes for Sirius’ brain to kick into gear. He almost wishes that it had just stayed a soggy mess too slow to think logically, because Peter is gone and the next logical conclusion his brain makes is that maybe Remus was not the traitor after all.

He kicks the motorcycle to life and flies fast enough for his eyes to water. Every thought that tries to break out is pushed back. It’s all a great mistake. It must be. He just has to talk to James about it. Ask Lily if she knows where Peter has gone. Maybe he moved to a new safehouse. Maybe Sirius got the date of their meeting wrong. Maybe…

All the breath in his lungs is punched out of him. He is off the motorcycle before it even hits the ground.

The house is in ruins.

He takes a few half-hearted running steps but stops in front of the gate and falls to his knees. Takes in the full extent of what he has done.

James. Lily. _Harry_.

He is frozen to the ground.

Not them.

For the love of Merlin and all the magic in the world, not _them_.

The silent night is pierced by a high-pitched wail, and it breaks his heart and ignites a flicker of hope all at the same time, because someone is alive in there. His legs obey him even when he thought they would not.

He climbs through the rubble, trips and curses and throws debris around a house that is supposed to be warm and whole and everything he ever wanted, and then he spots the mess of black hair and he stops breathing all together. This pain does not come creeping up on him like the inevitable loss of his younger brother, this pain is instant and powerful and terrifying and there is no escaping it.

His best friend has been ripped from him and he collapses.

Holds James Potter’s lifeless body towards his own one last time.

His body takes an involuntary breath because life is cruel that way.

The cry for help continues and it takes all the strength he doesn’t have to make himself stand. He leaves James on the floor. Focuses on the crying, the only way to keep going.

The stairs are intact, somehow, stronger than even the most evil magic, and his eyes are drawn to red hair and a deep ache blossoms in his chest. Lily’s eyes stare blankly up at him. She lies on her side, as if she hadn’t fallen to the floor but lied down to sleep. Arms resting in an almost arranged position in front of her.

Never again will she sing a muggle song at the top of her lungs on the back of Sirius’ motorcycle. Never again will she kiss his forehead when he says something stupid.

 _Gone_.

She lies next to the crib, Harry’s tiny hand holding a firm grip on her shirt. “Momma,” he calls, over and over. Tugs a little at the fabric, and grips it a little harder. He spots Sirius, recognizes him, and instantly starts to cry.

“Pa’foot!” he cries. “Pa’foot!” He let’s go of Lily and holds his arms out towards Sirius, waiting for him to lift him up and hug him and then Harry grabs him tighter than he ever has before. Sirius hugs him back, strength drained from his bones but he will never let this boy go. He is all that is left of Sirius’ family. The rest is just gone and blown up and in ruins. Even Remus, because Sirius doesn’t know what to do about him. However, one thing has become painfully clear – Remus was not the spy. 

“Where’s dada?” Harry cries. “Momma!”

“S’okay,” Sirius soothes. “I’ve got you.” Harry leans back a little and Sirius runs a thumb over a lightning-shaped scar on the previously smooth skin of his forehead. Stops when Harry swats his hand away.

He carries Harry out of the wreck of a house when all he really wants to do is lie down next to James and die.

_James._

Sirius wraps Harry up in the fuzzy blanket from the couch.

Tries not to think about the bodies of his best friends.

He is slightly surprised and just a little cautious when he spots Hagrid on the street outside, staring at the remains of the house with his mouth slightly agape.

“Hagrid,” Sirius greets, clutching Harry a little tighter to his chest.

“Sirius,” Hagrid replies, blinks a few times and meets his eyes. Both men are crying. Neither of them mention it.

“I have ter take him, Sirius. Dumbledore’s orders.”

“Like hell you do,” Sirius growls. “Dumbledore doesn’t get to decide what happens to him, it’s not right.”

Hagrid gives him a long, heavy look, broken only when Harry calls for “Pa’foot” again, immediately pacified by Sirius.

“He ‘as relatives, his aunt an’ uncle, they’ll take care o’ him. Dumbledore says he’ll be safe there.”

“I’ll take him.” The words leave his mouth before he even knows what he’s saying, but he’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life. “Hagrid, I’m his godfather. I’ll take him.” He can’t, _won’t_ leave Harry with Lily’s creep of a muggle-sister with her bully of a muggle-husband. He won’t. It’s James’ son. James precious little boy.

“Sirius, ye have ter do what’s best fer the boy.”

“I’m what’s best for the boy. He knows me, damn it, and I love him to death. Don’t tell me he’ll be better off in a muggle-family.”

Hagrid seems to be at a loss of words at that, but he still holds his enormous hands out towards Harry, a silent way of asking Sirius to hand him over.

“Sirius, Dumbledore wouldn’t ask fer this unless he had good reason. I trust him. Do ye?”

“I do,” Sirius exhales more than says, and it makes him hold on to Harry a little tighter, and he buries his nose in the jet-black hair, and he looks into those green eyes and kisses the scar on his forehead.

“Padfoot loves you, Harry. Moony loves you. Momma and dada love you.”

He breaks all over again when he hands Harry over, his fingers twitching when Hagrid nestles Harry into the sling around his shoulders.

“Take the motorcycle,” Sirius blurts, needing to at least do something right by his godson.

“Ye sure? Is it strong enough fer me?”

“It’s magical, Hagrid, of course it is. Please, take it. And tell Dumbledore…”

“Dumbledore knows ye love the boy, Sirius. Ye’re doin’ the right thing.”

As he watches Hagrid lift to the skies with the most precious boy in the world in his arms, he can’t help but feel that he made a mistake. That he’ll regret this decision for the rest of his life.

It’s only temporary, he tells himself. When things quiet down he’ll visit the muggles and persuade them to let him take care of Harry. They certainly won’t want a wizard in their family, not if everything Lily ever told him about her sister is true.

He stands in front of a ruined house and doesn’t know how to keep going. The scenes from inside the house plays on his eyelids, the blank stares and cold bodies, and he wants to scream.

The street is empty, but surely not for long. Godric’s hollow is full of wizards and witches who will come out once things have quieted down, once they’re sure that the danger is over. Sirius flicks his wand into his hand and thinks of the smell of Harry’s hair, the way James would hug him tight and not let go, and it takes more effort than ever before but soon the large silver dog leaps around him.

“Moony. I’m going to the safehouse in Lancaster. If you’re not already there you better get your arse over there or I’ll shove a wand up your nostril. Padfoot.”

It’s a long shot, especially since he up until a few hours ago suspected that Remus was Voldemort’s spy and had ratted on them all. But now he knows. He knows that it wasn’t Remus that had leaked information about the Order, but Peter. Peter, the bloody idiot. And it turns out Sirius was an even bigger idiot for trusting him, out of all people. He had been forced to make a choice, and he’d made the wrong one.

And now his two best friends are dead because of it.

He apparates to Woodcock street, a crude joke between James and Sirius as they picked a location for a safehouse. He thinks about never making jokes and pranks with James again, and decides not to think anymore.

There is no sign of anyone being inside, but Sirius still knocks on the door and waits for it to open. Maybe it’s just dumb luck, or maybe he knows Remus too well. Either way, the light is switched on behind the door and it opens, revealing a pair of red-rimmed eyes behind it.

Remus doesn’t invite him in, which is strangely un-hospitable of him, but considering the night they’ve had Sirius won’t hold it against him.

“What the hell do you want?” Remus asks. His voice is broken and hoarse like on the night after a full moon.

“Remus, please-“

“Are you here to ask me to forgive you? If that’s so, get the fuck out.”

“I’m not even inside,” Sirius quips, but the words come out cold and harsh and Remus doesn’t laugh or chuckle at him. He only levels him with that disapproving look.

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would do something like this. I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what you want. Just kill me if that’s what you want.”

“What?” Sirius barks, temper flaring up so quickly now. “Mate, you are seriously off your rocker.”

“Just admit that you betrayed them and then we can get this over with!” Remus growls back, baring his teeth at Sirius which sparks a very canine emotion in him that he has to fight to contain.

“We switched! Me and Peter! He was their secret-keeper.”

Remus at least seems taken aback by that, and straightens up a little. “That makes no sense. Why would James and Lily do something like that?”

“Because I told them to.” Sirius whispers, hoping that this is the end of it and that he’ll be invited inside since he’s freezing his balls off. “It was all Peter. I thought it would be best, because no one would ever think that James and Lily would pick him.”

“You switched? And you didn’t tell me?”

“You can’t blame me for being suspicious, Moony.”

Remus’ eyes narrow at that, and Sirius can see him distancing himself. The moment he realizes that Sirius thought he was the spy.

”Remus, mate, you have to trust me,” he says, being such a hypocrite that it physically hurts, but he’s a selfish man and after all, Remus has always been the better man of the two of them.

Remus doesn’t reply with so much as a blink of an eye, or a tightening of his lips, or a twitch in his fingers. He stands completely frozen, gaze glued to the ground between their feet.

“Moony. It’s me. _Me_. If you can’t trust me, then what-“

“I can’t,” he says quietly, so quiet that Sirius shouldn’t have been able to hear it.

“Moony-“

“Don’t call me that!” Remus shouts, taking a step back. Showing emotion, for once in his life. It, more than anything, breaks Sirius’ heart.

“They’re _dead_. James and Lily. _Dead_. And it’s your fault. I don’t know what to believe.”

Sirius blinks back the tears that have made themselves at home in his eyes. Breathes, or at least tries to. Takes a step towards Remus, who instantly backs away.

“I-“ he mumbles, but there’s nothing more to say. It is his fault. It’s his stupid fault because he was stupid enough to think that Peter could be trusted, to think that he would be a better option, and now two of his best friends are dead, one is gone, and one is looking at him like… He has no words for it. He has never seen this expression on Remus’ face before.

“Remus…”

The door shuts peacefully, because of course Remus would never act out on his aggressions. Sirius leans his forehead against the door and closes his eyes. He lets the tears fall, for Peter, for Lily, for James, for Harry, for the one person he thought would never turn his back on him. It hurts in ways that Sirius can’t describe.

He makes a decision. It’s rash, bold and reckless, even for him, but he sees no other solution and once he has made up his mind, there is certainly no going back.

“I’m going to kill him,” he whispers against the wood. “I’ll find him, and I’ll kill him. I don’t care if they send me to Azkaban or let the dementors have me. I’m going to make this right.”

He leaves a kiss on the door, hopes against all hope that they will one day see each other again, and leaves everything he has left behind him.

**November 3 rd 1981**

Remus lights a candle and drinks enough firewhiskey to knock any ordinary man unconscious. But he is not an ordinary man.

Multiple copies of _the Daily Prophet_ line the floor. Every front page is covered with headlines of Voldemort’s demise, of course, but some split the main news with a picture of a dark-haired man with hollow eyes screaming into the camera.

Remus hates that he knows what that scream sounds like. He hates that he can hear it.

He drinks some more and raises his glass at the candle.

“Happy fucking birthday.”

**November 6 th 1981**

He goes to the funeral alone. It’s a small service in Godric’s Hollow, some of their friends are there, some are still afraid to leave their homes, and the rest are dead. The ones left of the Order turn up. Dumbledore turns up.

But Remus is alone.

**November 30 th 1981**

He failed. Darkness and despair eats him up and the dementors tear him apart, flesh from bone, limb from limb. Somewhere out there, James and Lily’s murderer still runs free. Sirius screams and hurts and cries and sees James and Lily die over and over again.


	23. The Escape

**January 12 th 1982**

Remus always hated being alone. Ever since James and Sirius and Peter came into his life like a whirlwind, ever since he got his best friends and learned that he didn’t have to be alone. That there was another option.

But alone is all he has now. James and Peter and Lily are dead. Sirius is in Azkaban. The Order has slowly disintegrated, rounding up the last rogue Death Eaters but mostly leaving it to the Ministry to deal with them now. With Voldemort gone, the Order has lost its purpose. _Remus_ has lost his purpose.

And Sirius… He can’t believe Sirius would do something like that. Betray his friends. Kill Peter. Out of the four of them, Sirius was always the most loyal one, the most truthful one. Remus thinks back on the night of Halloween, the last time he and Sirius talked. He wonders, not for the first time, why Sirius didn’t kill him, too. Put an end to it. Why James and Peter had to die but he was allowed to live. Maybe Sirius did love him, and spared his life out of sentiment. He will never know.

It’s been a few days since the full moon, and his body still aches. Even though prices have gone down again since Voldemort’s demise, he still can’t afford the ingredients to the Wolfsbane potion, and even if he did, he would probably end up making a mistake and kill himself in the process. Not that he would mind all that much.

He visited James and Lily’s grave earlier today, and stood in front of their house for longer than socially acceptable, and walked around Godric’s Hollow with an empty heart.

Now he has apparated to a suburb with ugly brick houses and perfectly trimmed hedges, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knocks on the door of number 4 and waits. Hears a loud cry and a woman’s voice.

“What do you want?” Petunia Dursley snaps, holding one dark-haired baby in each arm and looking absolutely exhausted. The boy in her right arm is tucked up close to her, sucking his thumb and looking at the other boy with big eyes.

Harry is screaming and crying and hitting Petunia with his little fists, but then he sees Remus and stops at once.

“Moony!” he yells, reaching for Remus and kicking at Petunia, almost getting out of her grip on his own when Remus takes him and wraps his arms around him.

“Where momma? Where dada? Where pa’foot?” baby Harry cries, and it makes Remus’ heart break one more time.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, and cradles Harry against his body, the boy turning quiet in the familiar arms.

Petunia looks at him in shock. “How did you- He has been crying non-stop for a week. I can’t get him to stop.”

“My name is Remus Lupin. I was a friend of your sister’s.”

Petunia’s nostrils flare as she undoubtedly realizes that he’s a wizard, but then she looks at the pacified Harry and sighs.

“Please, come inside. Tea?”

“That would be lovely.”

They sit in the living room and drink tea and talk about Lily. Something in Petunia seems to crack, because all Remus ever knew about her was her pure hatred for everything that had anything to do with magic, but they sit there for hours and talk about Lily and James, Voldemort and the wizarding war, Harry and his future, and Remus answers every question as truthfully as he can. Harry has fallen asleep against his chest, but when Petunia offers to put him in his crib Remus declines. He can’t let go of him.

Hours later Mr. Dursley comes home, upset and angry and wondering why Remus can’t take the boy with him, but at that Petunia raises her voice and tells him no. To remember what was in the letter. Remus wishes that he could understand.

He puts the still sleeping Harry in the crib and gets ready to leave.

“You’re welcome back at any time,” Petunia offers, and it seems genuine. Remus smiles weakly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dursley.”

**June 8 th 1983**

Remus is on his way to Privet Drive when Dumbledore apparates in front of him without warning.

“Professor,” Remus greets, even though Dumbledore has never been his professor and is currently not even his headmaster.

“Mr. Lupin. I am in a bit of a hurry, so I will keep this brief. I must ask you to stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop visiting Harry.”

Remus insides turn to ice. “ _Why_?” he asks. One short word. The only thing he needs to know.

“Tell me, what purpose do you have in his life at the moment?”

Remus has no good answer to that.

“Let him go, Remus,” Dumbledore says softly. “Let him grow up without magic. He needs a future, not a reminder of his past.”

“He’s all I have left,” Remus whispers. But he knows he will do whatever Dumbledore tells him. The wizard just has that effect on him.

“I know,” Dumbledore sighs. “I know.”

**August 30 th 1985**

The tattoo on his right forearm glows bright. It’s a full moon. Somewhere, Remus is screaming in pain as his bones break and his skin tears.

Sirius slowly hits his head on the wall behind him, over and over and over and over.

“I’m innocent,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“Peter Pettigrew killed them.”

“I should have killed him, but I didn’t.”

“I’m innocent.”

He hits his head a little too hard and stops. Thinks of Harry, five years old by now. Thinks of Remus, alone and in pain and alone. James and Lily, rotting away in their graves.

He hits his head on the wall.

The never-ending cold grows stronger and Sirius shudders as a dementor passes his cell. If he hit his head a little harder…

The dementor is suddenly inside his cell, reaching a rotted hand towards his face and Sirius screams and screams and screams and screams.

**March 1986**

He is dying. Sirius Black is dying. No blaze of glory, no heroic act of bravery, he is fading away and dying, a piece of him ripped away with every passing moment.

He doesn’t know how or why he finally manages it, but with a tremendous effort he suddenly turns into the dog. And everything feels…distant. Better. Less like dying, and more like…enduring.

He lies in a corner of his cell and endures.

**October 31 st 1986**

Remus has been crying since he found a picture from Lily and James’ wedding in between two pages of an old book, and it has been five years since they died. He remember Sirius taking this very picture. He remembers laughing as James twirled Lily around the fountain, autumn wind tugging at their hair.

An old copy of the _Prophet_ sits on his bedside table, a screaming Sirius taunting him as always. Tonight he covers it up with the picture of Lily and James.

**July 1993**

Sirius runs away from Azkaban and he never wants to stop running. He’s not sure that he can. He runs and runs and runs and runs and is reminded of what it feels like to breathe.

The dementors had most of the time left him alone as a dog, but he had still felt their presence and heard screams and laughter from other prisoners and had spent every day trying not to die. Then he got that copy of _the Prophet_ from Fudge, and saw that bloody rat on a boy’s shoulder, and he’d known, somehow. Peter is back at Hogwarts. With Harry.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I should have killed him, but I didn’t.”

“I am going to kill him.”

The gates of Azkaban are impenetrable and can’t be destroyed, but when the dementors opened his cell to check whether he was still alive, he snuck out. Kept his mind blank and canine and too much like an animal for them to feel him.

He is weak and dying and everything that makes up who he is hurts, but he is free.

And now he is running.

**August 5 th 1993**

Remus reads about Sirius’ escape in _the Prophet_. He should be upset, and scared, and want to help find and catch Sirius again.

He drops the newspaper on the floor, then slides down along the wall to join it. It’s been more than ten years. A decade of being alone. And he can’t help longing for just a moment of company, even if that company would be Sirius Black.

**August 1993**

With everything Sirius knows about Petunia Dursley, he should not be surprised to find out that she still lives in the same house as she did twelve years ago. He should be running and hiding but he has to see him. Just once.

There is some commotion and a lot of screaming, and Sirius catches a glimpse of Harry leaving the house.

It is not enough.

He follows him from a distance, not getting a good look, not until Harry stops and sits on the side of the road.

Sirius comes closer. He looks at the boy he loves more than anything in the world, and for just a moment, he has his best friend back.


	24. The Professor

**September 1 st 1993**

A cold sense of dread crawls its way into every fibre of Remus’ body and he wakes up.

He wakes up and the first thing he sees is James.

Not James, but still him, James as he looked when he started a food fight in the Great Hall, James when he unleashed a herd of fire-ants in the Slytherin common room.

But this is not James, Remus realizes quite quickly. This is Harry.

James and Lily’s precious boy.

The last time Remus saw him was ten years ago, on his last visit to the Dursley’s. He wonders if Harry recognizes him. Most likely not. 

The Dementor is closing in on Harry and Remus thinks of almond-shaped eyes and bone-breaking hugs and a fireplace spreading heat deep into his core, and he casts a patronus. Only a blurry outline of a wolf can be seen, but still enough to defeat the Dementor.

When Harry comes to a while later he eyes Remus curiously. He doesn’t ask how Remus knew his name.

**September 4 th 1993**

Being back in the castle brings back too many old memories. Remus doesn’t quite know what to do with them all. With every corner he passes, every classroom he visits, he remembers. It’s not all pain, of course, most of it makes him smile and laugh and ache deep in his bones. This was theirs, once. The Marauders. Nothing but a name now, not the legends they were supposed to be.

He always loved Hogwarts. Since the moment he arrived.

Remus walks by McGonagall’s door, remembers the countless times he and James and Sirius and Peter were called in there when in trouble. The memories come with a sort of fondness that lodges itself somewhere between his heart and his guts. Just as he has passed the door it opens, and he turns around out of sheer instinct. McGonagall gives him a stern look and clears her throat.

“Remus,” she greets, nostrils flared.

“Professor McGonagall,” Remus replies politely. Her nostrils flare even wider.

“It’s Minerva to you now. Considering that we are both professors.”

Remus smiles.

“Minnie,” he corrects himself.

Her face softens and she smiles too.

“Tea?”

“I’d love some.”

She invites him into her office and gestures at him to sit, and with a flick of her wand a cup and saucer hover in his general direction. He grabs them out of thin air and smiles at McGonagall as she sits, puts her wand down and picks up the cup instead. For a while they sit in silence, looking out the windows, thinking. Remus always liked that about McGonagall, that she thinks before she speaks. It makes for a much more pleasant conversation.

“He’s a good boy,” she says at last

“Huh?”

“The Potter boy. He’s lovely. And he looks just like his father.”

“He does.” Remus sighs.

“I always thought you boys were going to be the death of me.”

“I apologize.”

McGonagall laughs softly, quite uncharacteristically of her.

“Don’t. I loved the four of you with all my heart.” Her voice catches and Remus knows what comes next, but he wishes that he didn’t and that she wouldn’t bring it up.

“How are you feeling now that Mr. Black has escaped?”

“He killed Lily and James and Peter.”

“A betrayal made worse considering how you two felt about each other.”

“Minnie…”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Remus doesn’t know what to say, so he ends up not saying anything. McGonagall seems to understand.

“There are those who say he wants the Potter boy. That he will come here.”

“What? Why? Who said it?” Remus exclaims.

“To finish the job, is what I have understood. Other professors are talking about it, worried. Dumbledore will not believe that he is coming here.”

“He always loved this place.”

McGonagall exhales a certain sadness.

“Yes, he did.”

“And I- I loved him so much.”

“I know.”

Remus shakes his head and has to put his cup down, his hands trembling beyond control.

“I really, really loved him. And he…”

“He betrayed you.”

“He betrayed all of us. I can’t believe he would do something like that. I still can’t believe it, and it’s been twelve years.”

McGonagall takes a sip of her tea and puts the cup in its saucer. Remus eyes his own cup that he haphazardly put right on her desk.

“You are entitled to have feelings about this, Remus. As far as I am concerned, you are very much entitled to still have feelings about _him_. But for Merlin’s sake, if he does come here, you have to swear to me that you will not help him get into the castle.”

Remus had never even considered it, but now that McGonagall brought it up he figures that it is quite a reasonable conclusion. She is not the only one who knows how close Remus and Sirius once were.

“Dumbledore…”

“Trusts you, as do I. But there might be others who don’t.”

“You mean Snape,” Remus sneers, unable to keep the venom from his voice even after all this time.

“Professor Snape is one of them, yes. Be smart, Remus. Do not take any risks. Especially not when it comes to Severus.”

He hides a boyish grin behind his teacup. Say what you want about Minerva McGonagall, but she always knew how to spur a bit of rebellion in your heart.

**September 6 th 1993**

It’s his first class with the third-years, and Remus brings out a boggart. He himself didn’t see one until his fifth year, but it was fun and a good introduction to dark creatures. The class looks eager and curious when the wardrobe shakes, which makes Remus chuckle.

He introduces himself. Asks if anyone knows what might be inside the wardrobe.

Harry’s jet-black hair and brilliant eyes stand out from the rest, but probably only because Remus tends to always search for him in a crowd. He can’t help it. More than anything he would love to give him a hug and tell him about the times he visited him at Privet Drive, he would like to talk about James and Lily and get a piece of his old life back.

But he can’t do that to Harry. What this boy needs is a teacher, a reliable adult, not an uncle to burden him with tales of how much he looks like his parents. Remus doesn’t know how to do both, so he chooses one. He chooses to be the teacher.

He sees Neville Longbottom’s red cheeks and frightened eyes and sees a reflection of his own self-doubt.

“Neville, come on up here.”

Neville swallows visibly but steps forward. Brave.

“Neville, what do you fear the most?”

He mumbles something that Remus can’t quite make out.

“Sorry?”

“Professor Snape.” The words come from a boy that should be afraid of death-eaters and unforgivable curses and amnesia and all sorts of unspeakable things. And something in Remus snaps.

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

He spots Harry somewhere in the middle of the crowd, with James’ hair and Lily’s eyes, and he can’t help himself.

He steps closer to Neville and whispers into his ear, “Neville, I want you to picture professor Snape in your grandmothers clothes.”

 _Well done, Moony_.

It is with some satisfaction that he watches Snape stumble around with a satin skirt and a red handbag.

**Halloween 1993**

Remus finds Harry wandering the castle alone. He slips into the role of the teacher, reminding himself that this is not the time to be nostalgic. Harry sees him, and Remus sees James. He blinks hard and sees Harry.

“Good morning, Harry,” he greets.

“Good morning, professor.”

 _Professor_. No ‘Uncle Moony’. It saddens Remus, but he is also old enough to not let his emotions ruin him.

“What are you doing here, all alone?”

Harry scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t get my form for Hogsmeade signed. So I suppose I’m waiting for my friends to get back.”

“Right.”

They walk together for a bit. The defence against the dark arts classroom comes into view.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Remus asks. Harry follows him to his office and they talk about Harry’s lessons and Remus tries not to think about what happened that day twelve years ago.

Later that night Peeves’ voice rings through the castle, telling everyone that Sirius Black tried to break into the Gryffindor common room. When his fellow staff members accuse Sirius of wanting to get to Harry, Remus instinctively knows that they are wrong. He may not know what Sirius is after, but nothing in the world could make him hurt James and Lily’s son.

**November 14 th 1993**

After his failed attempt at finding Peter, Sirius lays low for a while. He has to come up with another plan. There has to be a way to get that bloody rat.

On a run through the forest he hears the tell-tale sounds of a quidditch-match. Seeing as every witch and wizard alive is currently looking for him, an open event such as a quidditch-match should be avoided at all costs. But he has to see him again. If only for a moment, it would be enough.

Sirius climbs the spectator stands, and there, in red-and-gold robes with black hair and glasses, Harry flies across the skies.


	25. The Reunion

**May 2 nd 1994 **

When Remus finds Snape and Harry both staring intently at a piece of parchment, he instantly knows what it is and his heart skips a beat.

Harry looks relieved to see him; Snape looks murderous. Just as one could have expected. When Remus asks to see the parchment, Snape hesitantly gives it to him, undoubtedly hoping that Remus will side with him in saying that Harry is dealing in dark magic. If only Snape knew.

Although he knows that this particular piece of paper would never intentionally harm Harry, he has to tell him off for not turning it in. The thought of the map in the hands of someone who could mean to harm him is terrifying. Remus knows all too well what that map is capable of. As Harry begins to walk away Remus feels an unreasonable jolt of excitement at the idea of seeing his friends’ handwriting.

Then Harry stops. “Professor?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I’m not sure the map works.”

“What makes you say that?”

Harry hesitates before saying, “I saw the name of someone who’s dead.”

Remus frowns hard. The map works. He’s sure of it. Just holding it, he can feel the magic in it. “Who?”

“Peter Pettigrew.”

Remus freezes, not even replying to Harry’s ‘goodnight’. _Impossible_.

Sirius killed him.

Remus glances at the map. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he mumbles. As the lines of ink start to appear, Remus walks back to his office.

Sirius killed him.

Or did he?

**May 25 th 1994 **

Going to the Shrieking Shack is like second nature, Remus having done it so many times before. He slides down the tunnel, lands extraordinarily elegantly and does his best to run doubled over.

The shack smells familiar and it brings an uncomfortable churn to his guts, because nothing about this place should feel like home and yet it almost does. Early mornings with Sirius keeping him company before Madam Pomfrey’s arrival. Hours and hours wasted before the full moon broke out entirely.

He runs up the stairs to where he hears some sort of commotion. Nearly trips when a voice chuckles and says, _“Are you going to kill me, Harry?”_

There is no question who that voice belongs to, even though it’s cold like ice and empty instead of warm and full of life.

He sees a wand pointed at his best friend’s face, and he doesn’t care who is holding it – he disarms Harry while stepping through the door. Motions at him to back off.

The voice goes hand in hand with the rest of Sirius’ appearance. Hands tremble as he lies flat on his back on the floor, his bared teeth are grey and ugly, his hair is matted and greasy and his skin looks almost see-through. But it’s _him_.

“Well, well, Sirius, looking rather ragged, aren’t we?” Remus says. “Finally the flesh reflects the madness within.” He’s angry even though he doesn’t really have a reason to be, and feels himself towering over Sirius’ withered body. The years of torture and neglect have physically changed him and it hurts to watch the formerly elegant man turned into this ghost of a human.

“Well, you’d know all about the madness within, wouldn’t you, Remus?”

And just like that, they’re sixteen years old again, bickering at each other in the common room. _Merlin_ he’s missed him. He lowers his wand. Chuckles. Sirius looks so pleased at making him laugh. In one smooth motion Remus pulls Sirius up from the floor, then they hug and he smells like sweat and dust and something awfully bitter, and he’s nothing but a frame of skin and bones, but underneath it all he still feels and smells like _Sirius_.

After a rushed argument in which wands are pointed back and forth, and Snape interrupts to no one’s surprise, Sirius finally gets some words out that do not sound like he is about to kill Harry, and Harry tells them to prove it. Prove that Ron Weasley’s rat is, in fact, Peter Pettigrew.

At that, Sirius grabs Peter, gives Remus a quick look to check that he is ready, and lets go. The rat dashes away, but it has no chance of escaping; moments later one of the hexes hit and it starts to transform.

If Sirius is looking slightly canine, Peter’s human form has all but turned into a man-sized rat. His teeth are long and yellow, his nose is pointed and the hair around his ears have grown into little tufts.

Remus can feel his heart sink all the way to his heels at the sight of him. The fool. The poor, bloody fool. And what a fool Remus has been as well, he realizes, as he glances at Sirius next to him. How could he ever doubt Sirius’ loyalty to James?

Sirius looks downright feral as he looks at him now, which is understandable. They found him. The reason James and Lily were murdered. The reason Harry grew up an orphan. The reason Sirius was locked away in Azkaban.

 _I did my waiting. Twelve years of it. In Azkaban_. Sirius’ desperate voice is already haunting Remus.

For Remus’ part, the night ends with one of the worst transformations he’s had in a long time. He wakes up the next morning in the Shrieking Shack, surprised to see Dumbledore sitting in the corner of the room.

“I don’t suspect either of us thought the night would end quite like that.”

“Where is Sirius?” Remus says.

“Alive and well, currently accompanied by a hippogriff, if I am to believe the words of two thirteen-year-olds.”

“Harry?”

“And Ms. Granger,” Dumbledore confirms. “I am certain Mr. Black can be found, if he wants to.”

Remus stops himself from rolling his eyes. He sits up a little straighter, seeing a number of bruises on his arms from where Sirius bit him. For some reason it makes him smile, a memory of a time many years ago.

“You could stay,” Dumbledore says out of the blue. “Hogwarts would be lucky to have you as a teacher.”

Remus considers it, and finds that he has never been more certain of anything in his entire life.

“Albus. He was innocent. All these years. I just got him back, and I can’t lose him again.”

The twinkle is back in Dumbledore’s eyes, and it warms Remus to his core.

“An excellent decision, Remus. Simply excellent. I expect to see your owl with an update before the end of summer.”


	26. The Owl

**June 17 th 1994**

The letters between them are few and sporadic, but Remus keeps going on about wanting to join Sirius and eventually he relents. Remus tells him to come to the mountain near Suilven in the Highlands, with no hopes of actually seeing him there, but as he arrives to _their_ spot on the hill a great black dog is waiting for him.

And suddenly the air is a little easier to breathe. 

They find a Bed and Breakfast for muggles in a town nearby where they decide to stay for the night. The muggle woman in the reception shows them their room, shares some information about when breakfast is served and asks if they have any preferences. Remus replies as politely as he can, while simultaneously trying to get rid of her as he senses Sirius’ discomfort.

She leaves and they hear her footsteps going down the stairs, and that is the moment Remus realizes that this is the first time it is just the two of them together. Him and Sirius in a room with four walls, completely and utterly alone.

It frightens Remus more than he can admit. He is not concerned for his safety, never has been with Sirius, but rather a fear of being unable to connect. That they have changed too much, both of them.

Sirius lies on the bed and crosses his arms in front of his face. Remus does not know what to do or say and so he ends up glued to the floor, not moving a muscle.

Sirius is alive.

He is free.

He is _innocent_.

“You going to stand around over there all day?” Sirius mumbles from somewhere underneath his arms.

And Remus nearly shouts it out: “I love you.”

Sirius freezes for a moment before he gets up, resting on his elbows. There might be a slightly amused look in his eyes, but he is most certainly not smiling.

“What?”

Remus breathes heavily and they stare openly at each other. After a long silence, Sirius shakes his head in frustration and lets his chin fall down to his chest. When Remus thinks that Sirius has decided not to say anything, Sirius whispers, “How did we get here?”

He lies back down and raises a hand towards the ceiling, as if reaching towards something far, far away.

“What did we ever do to make this happen? How did the Marauders end up where we are now? One dead, one a traitor, one a wanted criminal and one…”

Remus waits for it. _A monster. A failure. A coward who could not trust his best friend._

Sirius looks up at him. “Well, Moony, seems like you’re the only one who got out better off.”

It is the first time Sirius uses Remus’ old nickname since their reunion, but the way he says it is bittersweet and tinged with pain.

“You never did anything wrong,” Remus counters, needing to fill the silence. “You didn’t kill Peter. You didn’t betray James and Lily.”

Sirius inhales sharply at his words. “No, but I might as well have. I convinced them to make Peter their secret-keeper instead of me. And he betrayed them.”

“You didn’t know,” Remus sighs, smiling sadly.

Silence again. Remus figures that he will have to get used to Sirius’ silences. While he gets a book from his bag and makes himself comfortable in the armchair by the open fire, Sirius doesn’t move a muscle, and Remus knows that this will take time. He knows all too well what it feels like to come back to your old self after being a monster.

He reads for quite a while before Sirius finally finds his voice again.

“I love you too. Never doubt that, Moony. I really, really do.”

Remus closes his book and his eyes and feels the built-up tension seep out of his shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“It’s just…difficult.”

“Loving me?”

At that, Sirius sits up and violently shakes his head. “No. It never has been. It’s the easiest thing in the world. It’s just difficult being _me_ right now. This…” He knocks on the side of his head. “…is not quite what it used to be. And it won’t be easy. But if you want me, I’m yours.”

Remus doesn’t hesitate before he puts his book down, walks to the bed and smothers Sirius in a hug.

**January 1995**

They split up sometime during the summer, Remus going back to live at the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade, Sirius off on various locations. It’s all to get the Ministry off their backs, since they have been watching Remus a little too closely for their comfort, and Remus knows that it has nothing to do with him, but he can’t help but think that it does. That Sirius couldn’t stand his presence anymore. That he did something wrong.

There have been sporadic letters, letting each other know that they are alive and as well as can be expected. Then the letters stopped coming, just over two months ago. Remus has been worrying sick. He comforts himself with the fact that if Sirius was captured by the Ministry, his face would cover the front page of _the Daily Prophet_.

Barbados, his owl, is old. Remus will not send him out on long journeys anymore. The owl may be old, but it’s still stubborn. When it bites the back of Remus’ hand, he figures that he’s bored. Or hungry. Probably both. So he feeds him and gives him some attention, but Barbados won’t have it. He bites him again, drawing blood this time.

“Oi! What?”

The owl skips to the windowsill and picks on the glass. Remus grudgingly opens it, hoping the owl won’t go too far.

Barbados lands on the street, still in Remus’ line of view, and gives a low hoot.

“I will not go outside just to carry you back here. You are not that old,” Remus calls after him. A second hoot, and Remus can’t not go after him.

Once he’s less than a metre away, Barbados takes flight, going as far as the wooden bench outside Madame Rosmerta’s. Hoots again.

Remus curses under his breath but follows the owl, just about to grab it when it flies away once more. Lands on a lamp post at the end of the street.

They follow this pattern, Barbados leading Remus out of Hogsmeade and towards the Forbidden Forest, which just makes Remus more curious and less annoyed at what the owl is doing. Leading him to Hogwarts? Why? He can see the castle through the trees, but Barbados takes him on a different route, still on the edge of the forest, but treading towards the lake instead. They go on for nearly half an hour, Remus’ hands freezing and his breath coming out as a thick fog in the cold night air. It’s pitch black outside. Not even the moon to light their path, not that Remus minds. Since their incident last spring, when he forgot to take the potion, he’s been a bit jumpy every time he sees that familiar sliver of light. The last few transformations have been fine, especially now that Padfoot has been able to keep him company again, but still. Not worth taking any chances.

“You could have told me we’d be going on a hike. I would have brought gloves. Maybe a hat,” Remus states to the oblivious owl, who just hoots and guides him forwards.

They go on for a bit longer, until Remus is suddenly allowed to come up to Barbados and pet him. He eyes the cliffs in front of him. Harsh rock and moss, clashed together to form nooks and caves. There is a particular cave opening that seems slightly larger than the rest. Almost large enough for a human to go through…

“You brought me here to go into a cave?” Remus asks. Barbados hoots. “If I die, please be aware that I have not left you any money.”

He slinks into the cave without a second thought. Once a Marauder, always a Marauder. It’s a tight fit, but he pushes through until the opening widens into quite a large open space. The air stinks of dead meat and urine, but also of something alive.

“Buckbeak?” Remus calls, incredulous. The hippogriff gives him a disinterested look and goes back to resting his head on his talons. Remus bows his head and gets a crooked nod in return, along with a flutter of Buckbeak’s wings that reveals that something dark and furry has crawled up against his side.

“Sirius,” Remus exhales, rushing towards his friend despite Buckbeak’s loud protests. He would recognize that fur anywhere.

It takes some effort, but he gets Buckbeak to pull back his wing to get a better look at him.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he mumbles, flicking his wand to leave an orb of light hanging in the air above them. Sirius is completely motionless. Remus can’t even tell if he’s breathing. He casts the transformation-spell, barely having to think the words, and feels his chest clench when Sirius’ human form is revealed. He’s barely more than a pile of skin and bones, cheeks hollow and lips cracked and blue. Remus touches him and he’s so _cold_.

He shakes him gently, and the dark eyes open. At first unfocused, but then he blinks a few times and at last recognizes Remus.

“Moons,” he whispers, raising a trembling hand to Remus’ cheek. “What’s with the frown?”

“How long have you been here?” Remus asks, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He’s been so close. So close, all this time, and he never told Remus.

“I had to come here…For the boy. He’s in trouble, Moony. Big trouble.”

“I know, I know about the tournament. Why didn’t you tell me where you were?”

“Didn’t want you to worry ‘bout me.” His lips crack into a grin.

“You’ve lost a few pounds,” Remus comments.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“Sirius,” Remus sighs.

“Not much to eat ‘round here. And so cold…” He drifts off, eyes rolling back in his head.

Remus makes a hasty and stupid decision, and turns Sirius back to his animal form. He gets them both out of the cave, helps Buckbeak out as well with a quick distorting-spell that makes the opening widen up, and then he grabs Sirius’ front paw and apparates to his room at the Hog’s Head. Lifts Sirius onto the bed and covers him with every blanket there is, along with some of his sweaters, then he lights the fire and casts a heating spell on the blankets.

He gets food from the pub downstairs and manages to wake Sirius long enough to get him to eat, then he blacks out again.

Remus sits with him through the night, one hand on his shoulder. He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he wakes up, his hand touches human flesh and Sirius is very much awake.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty.” Sirius grins. Remus withdraws his hand.

“How are you feeling?”

“Cold. Hungry.”

Remus offers him some more food, which is devoured in an instant. Sirius tugs the blankets up a little further and stubbornly stares out the window instead of meeting Remus’ eye.

“I thought you were dead,” Remus says at last.

“You n’ me both.”

“I’m serious.” He instantly regrets saying it.

“No you’re not,” Sirius laughs, and there’s that precious smirk that Remus’ hasn’t seen in thirteen years. “ _I’m_ Sirius.”

They laugh and it’s a wonderful thing, to still be able to laugh with his best friend. 


	27. The Painting of Mrs Black

**June 11 th 1995**

It’s remarkable how twelve years of imprisonment can change a man. Remus has to admit that Sirius always was a bit of a lunatic, but these days…These days he can be frightening. That is not a word he ever thought would apply to Sirius Black.

It was not much of a decision to be made, moving into Grimmauld Place with him. Sirius did not have to ask and Remus did not hesitate for even a second. The house is a perfect spot for the Order, large enough to host meetings and plenty of extra rooms if anyone needs to spend the night.

Most of the time Sirius is cheerful and mischievous, but then someone or something reminds him of the fact that he can’t leave the house and he turns cold. Spends more time alone, drinking with his eyes closed as if that could make him believe, if only for a second, that he is somewhere else.

**July 2 nd 1995**

The front door opens and they hear hushed voices coming from the corridor. Sirius tenses up immediately, shoulders raised and biting the inside of his cheeks. Remus sees it but, as always, pretends not to since that is what Sirius wants. The reason for his tension is revealed moments later when there’s a loud crash followed by an even louder voice singing angry insults and curses.

“I’m so sorry!” Tonks yells through the house.

Sirius looks as though he collapses internally.

“Coming,” Remus shouts and rushes to Tonks’ aid to get the painting of Mrs. Black to shut up.

**July 16 th 1995 **

They are having a loud discussion, as always whenever Snape is in the building. Him and Sirius are going at each other’s throats while Remus, Kingsley and Arthur sit back and give each other tired looks. Arthur takes the time to polish his glasses. Kingsley runs a hand across his bald scalp.

“I cannot believe Dumbledore wants you in on this plan, since you will inevitably ruin things, as always,” Snape sneers, curling his lips threateningly at Sirius.

Two months ago, Remus would have jumped to Sirius’ aid. Nowadays, the threats occur on a daily basis and the only one who acknowledges them is Sirius.

“At least he trusts me,” Sirius scoffs back.

“Trusts you? If Dumbledore trusts you, we are all doomed.”

“Then why don’t you run off to your death eater friends? I’m sure they would enjoy your company far more than we do.”

“It may surprise you, _Black_ , but I’m not here for your sake.”

“Is that so?”

Snape smiles, that cold smile that makes Remus’ spine tingle even though he has come to terms with working with Snape. Without another word, Snape grabs his cloak and leaves a fuming Sirius behind, and for a naïve second Remus is relieved that things did not escalate further than this tonight, that maybe Sirius can let the meeting go and calm down enough to remember how to behave like a normal human being.

But then Snape slams the door on his way out and Walburga’s magically enhanced voice fills every last air pocket with hatred and disgust.

And Sirius cracks.

“I’m going to blast that BLOODY thing off the wall!” he shouts, running out wand first, Remus, Arthur and Kingsley hustling to their feet half a step behind him.

“MUDBLOOD SCUM, STAINING THE WALLS OF THIS PURE HOUSE-“

“Sirius-“ Kingsley tries, then he has to duck to avoid a green flash from Sirius’ wand.

They helplessly try to pry Sirius away from the wall, while simultaneously dodging his hexes, and Sirius throws everything he has at the painting but with no result; Walburga only laughs at him and screams a little louder. Every curse he casts rebounds and seems to affect him more than anything else, and he lifts his wand arm with a little more effort every time.

In the end he resorts to physically trying to destroy the painting. He drags his nails across it, hits and tugs and pulls but nothing takes.

“Sirius,” Remus calls, and Sirius flees the scene, Walburga yelling insults after him. As Kingsley and Arthur try to follow, Remus stops them.

“I’ll give it a go, you two, _please_ get her to stop talking.”

He finds Sirius in one of the rooms on the top floor, pacing, pacing, pacing. Snarling at Remus when he enters.

“I hate her. I hate her. I’m going to end her,” he mumbles. “I hate her. I hate her.”

“Padfoot,” Remus says softly.

“WHAT?” he shouts. “JUST GET OUT! GO!”

For once, Remus obeys. He shuts the door behind him, and for lack of anything better to do, sits with his back against the wall next to it and listens to Sirius pacing inside.

Hours later, the black dog comes out. He puts his head in Remus’ lap and Remus buries his fingers in his fur.

**August 6 th 1995**

It’s difficult not to turn everything into an obsession these days. Sirius wants nothing more than to be his old self, and so he does everything he can to appear to be the same. He puts on his best clothes and acts like James is right behind him. It helps. But it does not help him not feel useless when a team is sent to pick up Harry and he is not allowed to go. He gets it. Sure. Being the most wanted wizard in England has its repercussions. But seeing Remus leave with Tonks and Kingsley and Moody is the worst.

The only thing that makes it better is when they return, and Harry all but tackles him with a hug.

**October 13 th 1995**

Sirius finds the photos by accident, going through all his old bags and his trunk and the wardrobes looking for any old bottles stashed there. His fingers slide blindly across blank paper and he pulls it out, suddenly hit in the chest by James’ laughing face. He remembers it, a prank gone wrong, Peter’s hair turned to antlers and Remus doing his best to turn it back. James had laughed and clutched his stomach and laughed some more, and Sirius had seized the opportunity to take a photo.

_James_

His absence is a constant ache that Sirius can’t escape.

He spreads the photos out on the floor, gut twisting at seeing Peter’s face. There is no saying what he would have done if Remus hadn’t picked that exact moment to knock on the door and peek his head inside.

“I made food.”

He stands behind Sirius, hand resting on his shoulder and bent forward to see what he is looking at.

“Oh,” Remus says softly.

“We were happy, weren’t we?” Sirius whispers. “We could have had everything. And he ruined it all.”

There is no question who Sirius is referring to, but Remus does not acknowledge it.

“Voldemort destroyed many lives. And he will destroy more.”

“I’m not talking about Voldemort.”

“I know.”

Sirius sighs.

“How could he do this to us, Moony? How could he do it to James, and Lily, and _Harry_?”

Remus joins Sirius on the floor and picks up a photo of James and Peter undoubtedly working on one of their pranks.

“It was still all Voldemort,” Remus says. “How long do you think we would have all survived even if Peter hadn’t betrayed them? And no,” he adds, cutting off Sirius’ reply before he can even open his mouth. “I’m not defending him. What he did was terrible. But at the same time, I can’t blame him for being scared.”

Sirius leans into Remus’ side. They pick up the photos one by one, remembering when they were taken, what they were doing, going back to that wonderful time of friendship and pranks and living life to the fullest. With every new photo of Peter, Sirius’ hatred for him slowly fades. They were the very best of friends. All four of them. And nothing that happened after they left Hogwarts is going to change that.

“The food is probably cold by now,” Remus says once they have gone through the photos too many times. Sirius pictures James hovering behind them, nagging at them to eat.

“Let’s go.” They help each other get up from the floor, joints creaking and popping. Remus tilts his head and smiles sadly.

“We got old.”

“We did.”

Their eyes meet, faces lined with age and loss and pain.

Sirius grabs the photo of the four of them by the lake, the one that Lily took a few weeks before they left Hogwarts for good. He puts it fondly in his right breast pocket and never takes it out.


	28. The End

**December 24 th 1995**

Sirius knows that he has not been the most pleasurable company lately. He knows, but he doesn’t know what to do to change it. Anything besides lying in bed seems too much of an effort.

Then he hears that Harry and the Weasleys are staying for Christmas. And he knows he has to at least try.

He shaves and puts the bottles away and does his best to act the way he remembers he once did. Laughs. Tells stupid jokes. Sits a little too close to Remus.

When it all becomes too much he escapes to the top floor where Buckbeak looks wistfully at the night sky.

“Yeah, me too,” Sirius mutters. He opens the window and lets the cold air fill his lungs. Better.

“Sirius?” A knock on the door. Harry.

“Here,” he says. Harry lets himself in. Sirius knows he should turn around and reassure him that everything is fine, but he stays by the window, unable to walk away from the fresh air.

Harry joins him. Sirius puts an arm around his shoulders and there they stay, silence only occasionally broken by words.

**January 13 th 1996**

On the days when there are no meetings booked and Sirius and Remus are alone in the house, Sirius stays in dog-form. Remus is ashamed to admit that he doesn’t mind all that much, getting a break from Sirius’ constant complaints and drinking and smoking and his generally hateful attitude towards everyone and everything. As a dog, Sirius lies by Remus’ feet when he sits in the armchair by the fire to read. Sighs happily when Remus plays with his fur with his toes. They share a bed, Sirius’ cold nose against Remus’ arm and his body keeping them both warm through the night.

Remus is not stupid. He knows that Sirius also needs a break from the drinking and the smoking and the hating. And from the memories, that surely must be a thousand times worse at night. Memories that must be a thousand times easier to deal with through a canine’s perspective. 

And so he stays in dog-form. And they’re both quite happy about it.

One night Remus falls asleep next to a dog, only to wake up a few hours later next to a man. He sits on the edge of the bed, head hanging forwards and a tremor going through his shoulders.

“Padfoot?”

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know.”

“I know.”

“So why do you do it? I’m a mess. I’m a bloody mess, Moony. And we both know there’s no fixing me.”

“I would never let you live here on your own.”

“Here we go with this fucking chivalry again,” Sirius mumbles, quietly enough that it weren’t meant for human ears. Unfortunately for him, Remus has excellent hearing.

“How many times did you stay with me in the Shrieking Shack, even though I begged you to leave?” Remus says quietly. “How many times did I curse you for pitying me, for feeling the need to take care of me. For keeping me alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius exhales. “But I’m not the boy you knew all those years ago.”

“And you think I am? I spent all those years thinking two of my best friends were dead and that the third had killed them. I was so alone. And since I got you back, and learned the truth, I just feel like…you know. I’ve got something worth living for again.”

Sirius doesn’t have anything to say to that. Remus can feel his heartbeat in his eardrums, waiting for the inevitable moment when his friend leaves him for the bottles downstairs in the kitchen.

Instead, he crawls under the covers and presses his back against Remus, sighing softly when arms are wrapped around him and a soft kiss placed on his neck.

“Missed you, Moony,” he mumbles.

“I missed you too.”

**June 18 th 1996**

Sirius falls through the veil and Remus’ heart breaks for the thousandth time. He holds on to Harry with all his strength because he knows that if he didn’t, he’d follow Sirius in a heartbeat. And he can’t do that to Harry.

The fighting continues and his grip fails, and then he has to shield himself from the Death Eaters. There is a lull in the battle and Tonks runs into him.

”Have you seen Harry?” Remus yells. He can’t tell if the noise of the fight has died out or not.

”Dumbledore followed him,” Tonks says, pointing vaguely across the room. Before Remus can leave, she grabs his arm. ”Remus, please, you have to help us get the kids out.”

”I have to protect him. I’m the only one that’s left.”

”Professor Lupin.” Hermione approaches carefully. When she doesn’t get a response, she raises her voice. ”Remus!”

She gets his full attention, because he needs this, something to focus on other than the fact that Sirius is _gone._

”Please, help us”, Hermione whispers, pointing at Neville’s bleeding nose and the angry lashes on Ron’s skin. Remus turns into the teacher, and with more willpower than he thought he had he stays focused when all he wants to do is fall apart.

**July 2 nd 1997**

Remus knows that he will never love anyone the way he loved Sirius, but he also knows that love comes in different forms. And what he feels for Tonks takes him by surprise and overpowers him completely. Tonks, with her short temper and hard-headedness and a laugh never too far away. She asks him to marry her and nothing in the world could make him refuse.

**March 1998**

Peter’s death does not come as a shock. Remus gets an owl with a few words scribbled on it, and that’s it. He is not shocked, but he does, however, sit down. Death has been a part of his life for so long now that he can’t remember life without it. Dumbledore, soon a year ago now. Dumbledore’s death hit him harder.

Tonks appears and plants a kiss on his temple. “What’s this?” Remus hands her the letter. She reads it quickly. “I’m so sorry, love,” she says.

Remus looks at her. Tries to understand what she means. “What?”

She tilts her head. “He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

“A long, long time ago.”

“Still.” She hands the paper back and wraps her arms around him, taps his shoulder twice and as always it makes him smile. 

**May 2 nd 1998 **

The defeats pile up and become one too many, and this time Remus decides that it is okay to give up. To be beaten. Because in the end, it is not his fight to win. It’s Harry’s. He sends a last wish that the boy who lived will survive, that his son will grow up in a world without war, and lowers his wand. Welcomes Death like an old friend, having danced around it for so long. In the end, it doesn’t hurt. Seeing Death come for his friends and family has always been excruciatingly painful, but now he can’t remember why. It is, after all, quite inevitable.

**1999**

McGonagall never thought she’d outlive any of them. Not a single one of the self-sacrificing stupidly brave boys. _Her_ boys. They always had been, from the first time she caught them by the ears during a prank in their first year.

Despite the horrors of war and being forced to grow up too fast they were all still children, all four of them. They should have grown old and grey-haired and had kids and grandkids, and instead, Minerva outlived them all. Watched them die and be buried and mourned by the ones who were left. The Marauders. Legends even before their time had run out.


	29. The After

Somewhere beyond King’s Cross train station, four boys and a red-headed girl sit underneath an old Willow.

One is just happy to be there, amongst his friends, forgiven.

One holds the hand of the red-head, and they think of another boy with jet-black hair and green almond-shaped eyes, and are so grateful that he is alive.

The last two only have eyes for each other, because waiting an entire lifetime was apparently too much.


End file.
